CHAPTER 8

Neither Harry Potter nor any of the characters associated with him belong to me. They are JK Rowlings. I'm not in this for the money, just for fun!

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Centaur Liaison Office;

Ten Minutes Later:

Harry had returned to the Burrow, and back to the Ministry, a total of four times each, to collect Mrs. Weasley and Rebecca's three bodyguards. Each time, his face looked a little greener than it had before.

"Need a bucket?" Abraham joked, but no one laughed, not even he.

The four of them, including Molly, had managed to keep the Centaurs out of the Burrow with their wands, just long enough for Harry to return and get each of them out of there. The Centaurs had literally just broken down the front-door (and most of the wall with it), and raced in before Harry had Apparated the last of them out.

"Just…need…a minute," gasped Harry, taking deep breaths, as Molly worriedly patted his back. "I'll be okay, Molly," he told her, smiling.

At that moment, Ron suddenly walked in. At the sight of everyone, he half-raised his eyebrow, gazing at them all curiously. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"Why don't you four go get something to drink, and rest for a while?" said Harry, ignoring Ron for the moment. "I need to go over a few things with Miss Leicester, as we need to establish a new safehouse for her and everything."

It was clear to all that it was not a suggestion, so they nodded their heads in agreement, and walked out the room.

"Ron, go after them, and make sure that all the guards have clear instructions not to let any of them out of their sight," he whispered quickly. "Also, tell them to check everything they eat and drink. That thing we were discussing earlier. Now, I'm certain of it!"

He spoke lowly, so as none of them could hear him. Rebecca was able to, since she was literally right next to him, but he didn't seem to mind her overhearing.

Ron's eyes widened a little, but he nodded at his friend, and walked out, following the group of one wizard and three witches outside.

"Oh, and send someone to check out the Burrow, and arrange transport for Firenze back here," Harry added. "Your mom will give you all the details."

Rebecca blinked at him for a few seconds. "What's…?"

He held up his hand, telling her to be quiet, while he went up to the door to the office, and closed it. "Sorry, but I don't want to risk anyone hearing us, particularly those three."

"Why not?"

He sighed, as he walked back up to her, and leaned against the desk. "There's been a development. Since you were last here in this office, me, Hermione and Ron have been doing some digging. Ever since you told us about those impostors, and the man who acted a bit like that other woman I told you about. Dolores Umbridge?"

"Yes, I remember, but…didn't you say she was dead?"

"That's what we were all led to believe, but… Well, like I told you before, it wouldn't be the first time that someone in Azkaban had faked their death to escape. And the similarities between her, that Doncaster impostor, and what you told us about that Vanessa woman, seemed too much to be a coincidence. So me and Ron headed out there to question the Warden at Azkaban about her and her final days."

"What happened?"

"We met the Warden, a man named Donald Pierce. He'd been in charge since the Dementors were all kicked out of Azkaban. We learned he had got the job, thanks to a recommendation from Umbridge herself, so we figured he might owe her. Plus, he would have been the only one who would have had full access to her during her incarceration."

"What did he say?"

Harry frowned. "Didn't get a chance to say anything much."

"Huh?"

He sighed. "We questioned him about Umbridge, and anything else he might be aware of, but he denied everything. That is, until we mentioned the coming war with the Centaurs. He seemed to really take that to heart."

"Why?"

"We mentioned that the war, so soon after Voldemort, would devastate Britain, and all of the magical community. So if he knew anything that could help us, we urged him to tell us."

"And did he?"

"No…though it was not for lack of trying." He looked down for a moment. "After we told him about the Centaurs, he said, and I quote, By Merlin I didn't think she would…" He paused.

"Didn't think she would what?"

"That's all he said. The moment he did, the poor man dropped down dead in front of us."

"Dead?" she said, staring at him in shock. "How?"

He shrugged. "We don't know for definite, but we had some healers take a look at him, to see if they could determine the cause of death. They couldn't find a single thing wrong with him physically. Aside from a little overweight, he was in more or less excellent shape." He sighed, a little sadly. "Guy had a family, too, from what I found out."

"Then what happened to him? A heart attack?"

"That would seem to be the most likely explanation, but no. I have my suspicions that what happened to him was something far more sinister."

"Like?"

He looked right at her. "The Unbreakable Vow."

"The what?"

"The Unbreakable Vow," he repeated. "It's an oath sworn by using magic. Basically, what happens is that two people, plus a third to initiate the magic, make a promise to one another. And whatever promise they make, they each have to stick by it, no matter what, till their dying day. Because if either of them ever attempt to break the vow…they won't live long enough to try."

Rebecca shuddered. "And…that's what happened to this Mr. Pierce?"

"It seems most likely. It would explain how he died so suddenly, and why he died right at the moment when he came close to mentioning what we can only assume must be Umbridge's name, and her involvement in everything concerning you, and quite possibly the Centaurs as well."

She frowned. "Still…as suspicious as it sounds, he could have died from some other way, couldn't he?"

Harry shrugged. "Possibly. But what with that, and what happened at the Burrow, I don't think so. And even if by some chance Umbridge wasn't involved in all this, we now know one of ours is definitely working with the Centaurs."

She gasped, and looked straight at him. "What?!"

Harry sighed. "Besides you and me, the only other people who knew you were at the Burrow were Ron, his parents, Ginny, Hermione, Firenze, Miss Griffin, Miss Pan, and Mr. Bollard. Oh, and Edwin, the guy whose head you saw in the fire."

She clenched her fist a little. "So you think this Umbridge woman is posing as one of them with that pumpkin juice potion of yours?"

"Polyjuice Potion, and yes, as no one but they knew you were staying at the Burrow."

"Okay, but…which one?"

He frowned again. "Well, we know it can't be Firenze. The Polyjuice only works on humans, and even then doesn't turn anyone into another creature. And as you know, he was with you most of the time, and he has no means of contacting his herd. Hermione and Ron, I trust with my life, and we've been together too long for anyone to be able to masquerade as one of them and fool me. And the same with them and I."

She nodded, accepting his reasoning. "What about Ginny, her parents and that Edwin guy?" she then asked.

"Ron knows his own folks, and believe me, if anyone was gonna pose as them, they'd have to spend years watching them 24/7 to get their personalities right. They're the most complicated couple in the whole wizarding community. Ask anyone. But even so, I'll ask Ron to double-check, see if they remember a few things that only his real mom and dad would know, but I still don't think it's them we have to worry about."

"And Edwin?"

"Edwin's hardly left the Ministry, due to the workload the Centaurs have been making for us. We've got like a few dozen witnesses who can corroborate his whereabouts during the last week. And when he was at home, his family were with him. He never had a chance to go anywhere or contact anyone by himself."

"Okay, and Ginny?"

Harry smiled. "Besides Ron and Hermione, Ginny is the third most unlikely person anyone could masquerade as, and succeed."

"How do you know?"

His smile turned into a bit of a sly grin, as he simply replied, "No one kisses like Ginny."

She blushed. "Okaaay, and that answers that question. But what about the rest?"

He lost his smile then, and frowned. "That's what we have to figure out."

At that moment, Ron returned. "They're all helping themselves to some tea," he said, "including mom. And I've told the guards to keep an eye on all of them. They're not to let them out of their sight, even if one of them has to go to the loo, and to inform us if any of them try slipping something into their drink or anything. And Kingsley says he'll send someone for Firenze."

"Good," said Harry. He wasn't worried about Firenze being there at the Burrow with his herd. Firenze had told him that they wouldn't attack him again, as he had explained the situation. He wouldn't fight for them, by trying to abduct Rebecca, but he wouldn't fight against them either. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could offer.

"Make sure they are all kept under constant close observation," he added. "Until we can determine who each of them is, I don't wanna take any chances. I've told Rebecca here about what happened at Azkaban."

Ron nodded.

"Before anything else," Rebecca said slowly, "you might want to check Mr. Bollard first."

"Abraham?" said Ron, looking at her.

She nodded. "While he was at the Burrow with us, he acted a bit like the person who I thought was Doncaster. I mean, he was all flighty, and he seemed really in love with your cat."

"Cat? Oh, you mean Crookshanks, the large orange one?"

"Yes, him. Bollard went all lovey dovey when he saw him, even though the cat wouldn't have none of it when he went to pet him."

"Well, actually, from what Hermione and my dad tell me, Bollard was always a lover of animals. Why'd you think he ended up working in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department?"

"In what way, exactly, do you mean Crookshanks wouldn't have none of it?" Harry asked suddenly, ignoring him.

She shrugged. "The cat just didn't seem to like him, that's all. Took one sniff of him, and then ran off, hissing and spitting. I remember thinking it odd. I mean, he's supposed to work in a department that deals with dangerous animals, right? Yet he couldn't handle a cat?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Do you think Umbridge could have taken Abs' place?" asked Ron.

"It would be ideal for her, but then again…Bollard's reputation with dealing with beasts isn't exactly high standard."

"I thought he was famous for dealing with them?" Rebecca asked curiously.

Ron laughed. "Bollard? The guy's all hot air. Okay, he's had a few minor successes over the years, but overall the guy couldn't catch a House-Elf, and you only need to order them to you."

"Still," added Harry, frowning still. "Crooks going off at Bollard is a sign that something's not right, at least not with him."

"Sorry, but what's the cat not liking someone got to do with this?!" said Rebecca.

"Crookshanks isn't what you would call your ordinary cat," said Harry. "You know how they say that some cats can sense evil? Well, in Crookshank's case, it's very true."

"Not always, mate," interrupted Ron. "Remember when he and I first met? He didn't exactly welcome me with open paws now, did he? And I'm no Death Eater."

"Maybe not, but still, it's very suspicious. Rebecca, you're gonna have to tell us everything that happened at the Burrow, from the moment Miss Griffin first arrived, to when I brought you back here."

Rebecca chewed her lower lip, but nodded, and started to talk. She explained everything, starting with right after Miss Pan and Mr. Bollard had arrived after Imogen, how she had suspected Bollard almost from the start, with his similar personality to that of the fake Doncaster, and his love of cats.

"That is worryingly like Umbridge," said Harry, his brow burrowing. "But like Ron here said, Bollard is known for his love of animals, and often acts a little eccentric around them. And as for Crookshanks, again he could just simply not like the guy, or possibly there is something about Bollard that Crooks doesn't fancy."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Crooks doesn't go for people who are untrustworthy," explained Ron.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Does that mean you're not trustworthy then?" she asked, remembering him saying that the cat hadn't liked him at first.

Ron blushed, while Harry laughed.

"It was a long time ago," said Harry. "And he's matured a lot since then. But go on with your story. From the sounds of it, Bollard could be a good suspect, but we don't know for certain. I'm sure there are plenty of things in his life that he's not completely honest about."

She blinked, as she suddenly remembered. "When the Centaurs were attacking, he had a means of contacting the Ministry, but didn't tell us about it."

Ron looked over at her, and then at Harry. "Why would he do that unless he didn't want us to come over and help?"

Rebecca winced. "Well, when your mother got hold of his mirror, what he apparently uses to call the Ministry with, a young woman answered on the other end. From the way she spoke, when she thought it was Mr. Bollard calling, it sounds like they were…close friends."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And Bollard's a married man, too."

Ron sighed. "That would explain the untrustworthiness, and why Crooks didn't like him. He doesn't go for any kind of person who's untrustworthy, and let's face it, a guy cheating on his wife is way up there on the list."

"It could still all be a farce, though. Umbridge might have picked him for that very reason, as it would provide the perfect cover when dealing with Crooks."

Ron squinted his eyes a little, thinking. "Maybe, mate, but I don't think Umbridge knows anything about Crooks, and if she did then why go to all the trouble of choosing to pose as a guy whose personality, let's face it, sounds like it could be the male version of her?"

Harry gave a low sigh, but couldn't help agreeing with him. Umbridge hadn't been the brightest of witches, but even she would be smart enough not to go masquerading as someone who everyone would suspect was she.

"But even so," Ron then added, "we don't know for definite that he isn't her, or that he's not the one working for the Centaurs either. Like you, and what Rebecca here has said, his actions are questionable at the very least."

Harry nodded. "We'll know soon enough anyway." He then looked back to her. "Tell us the rest of your story, Rebecca."

She frowned, trying to recall what happened next. "Well, while everyone was having their tea, Miss Pan, or Meredith, got up to go check the garden."

Ron and Harry's interest perked up again at that.

"She could have been going outside to summon the Centaurs?" Ron suggested.

Rebecca frowned. "I don't think she had the chance."

"What do you mean?"

She smirked a little. "When she got to the back-door and opened it, she bumped right into Firenze, who was standing there, having his breakfast. He had his back to her, so she ended up walking straight into his backside when she opened the door."

Ron burst out laughing. "Bet that made her shriek."

She couldn't help giggling also. "Shriek? She was practically screaming. I thought your parents had a siren in the house when I heard her."

Harry, however, was not laughing. He had on his face a cool, calculating look.

"Harry?" said Ron, looking concerned.

"Meredith Pan isn't exactly the bravest of souls, but she's been around loads of dangerous animals before. Doesn't it strike you odd that she would act so high-strung around Firenze?"

Ron shrugged. "To be honest, not really, mate. I mean, since all the trouble with the Centaurs began, a lot of people have gotten nervous about them."

"But we told her and the others that Firenze was there?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't there to meet them when they arrived. She could have just plain forgot."

"Possibly, but don't forget Umbridge's fear and hatred of Centaurs. The way Meredith acted; she could have very well been her."

"Umbridge has a thing against Centaurs?" Rebecca asked, looking curious.

The two of them looked back to her, and nodded.

"Umbridge had, shall we say, an unfortunate skirmish with them, a few years ago. She made the mistake of angering them in their own forest, and they dragged her off with them. I don't know the full details of what happened, but Dumbledore, an old friend, managed to convince the Centaurs to return her unharmed. But whatever happened to her in there, she never got over her fear of them."

Rebecca couldn't help but feel some kinship with this Umbridge woman at that. After all, she knew better than anyone how terrifying the Centaurs could be.

"Wait," she said, realising something. "If this woman was so frightened of Centaurs, what makes you think she'd work with them?"

"Well," said Harry, shrugging, "if she is, then she hasn't exactly been dealing with them close at hand. When she appeared to them, in that guy's form, she made sure to keep her distance. And we don't know how she's been keeping contact with them since then."

"But even so, to work with them, and risk starting a war…?"

"You don't know Umbridge," said Ron darkly. "The woman had no conscience concerning the harm of others. She always put herself first before anything. And as for starting a war…frankly, it wouldn't surprise me."

She cocked her head curiously at him.

"Out of all the people we sent down after the war, I imagine she was one of them who found her sentence the worst to deal with. Among other things, she was your basic spoilt brat, used to living on the best of everything. So I would think going from riches to prisoner rags would be a major comedown to her."

"And starting a war would be just up her alley," said Harry bitterly. "If she is doing this, then no doubt she's doing it simply for revenge. She would blame everybody for her fall from grace, not just us, and doing this would be the best and easiest way to get payback on everyone."

"But how would she even know about me?" she wondered aloud.

Harry shrugged. "She did work in the Ministry, so she may have heard about the helicopter that crashed you into the Forbidden Forest. And I did mention that she had a run-in with the Centaurs once, too. It's possible she may have heard something about you from them when she was their prisoner, and used it to her advantage years later."

She half-screwed her face in thought.

"Hey, I didn't say it was pretty, but then again, nothing with Umbridge ever was."

"Meredith Pan's reaction with Firenze definitely sounds like Umbridge, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but again it's nothing definite. Like you said, Meredith's overreaction, considering the trouble a lot of people are having with Centaurs lately, was probably nothing more than a minor panic attack."

Ron fumed. "So we're back to where we started then."

"What about Imogen Griffin?" Rebecca suddenly asked.

They both looked at her, and then at each other.

"Imogen did ask for a lot of sugar in her tea when I was there. And I've never known her to take any before."

"I don't suppose she offered an explanation?"

"She said she didn't take sugar because of her parents. Said they didn't want her rotting her teeth."

"Curious, but not unusual. I always got told by my folks to stop eating so much candy."

Harry groaned. "Annnnd we're back." He looked back to her. "Did anything else happen?"

"After Meredith got scared by Firenze, he and I went for a walk together. Not soon after, he heard the other Centaurs approaching, and rushed me back inside while he went to go talk to them. Molly tried to send me back here, using that Floo thing, but when we got to the fireplace, there was none of that powder."

Ron's eyes widened a little, and Harry swore lowly.

"Mrs. Weasley says she kept it in a flowerpot, but it was empty by the time we got there, and she said it had been full the last time it was used."

Ron looked at her. "Did you see anyone near the flowerpot at all while you were in the room?"

She shook her head sadly.

"Was there any time when one of you could have been alone in the room, to remove the powder?" Harry asked.

She frowned, and thought. "Hmmm, I don't think so…Oh wait! When Meredith got scared by Firenze, we all rushed out to see what the problem was."

Harry looked on in interest. "Before then, was there any other time when the Floo Powder could have gotten stolen?"

Rebecca thought carefully. "Not that I can think of," she said finally. "Of course, I don't know what they all got up to while I was out of the house with Firenze."

Harry turned to Ron. "When you talk to your mom, find out if she ever left either of them alone in the living room, and if any of them were ever anywhere close to the pot or fireplace? If the time when Meredith was screaming at Firenze was the only time when the Powder could have got nicked, then at least we can rule out her."

She grimaced suddenly. "There's another thing about Imogen also."

"What?"

"When the Centaurs were surrounding the house, Imogen used some kind of exploding spell, which blasted a few of the Centaurs. I don't think anyone was killed, but some were definitely hurt."

Harry swore inwardly. "That complicates things even further. By attacking a Centaur full on, Imogen inadvertently declared war between the Ministry and them."

"Could that have been her intention all along?"

Harry shrugged (they seemed to be doing a lot of shrugging and nodding lately, she realised). "It is another possibility, but again nothing concrete. Imogen isn't a field girl. Before today, she'd never been put in the line of battle, so who's to say how anyone would have reacted if they were in her shoes?"

"Either way," said Ron, "we should find out for sure whether Umbridge is one of those guys."

"What do you mean?" she said, looking at him.

"Polyjuice Potion only lasts about an hour, unless you keep drinking it," he explained. "That's why we're having the guards keep track of all of them. If one of them tries slipping something into their tea, we'll know."

She nodded, but then wondered. "Is there any other way that a person can change their appearance?"

"Not that I know of. I'll have to double check, but someone would have told us before now if there was."

"How much longer do we have to wait until then?"

Harry checked his watch. "Just another half an hour. And even if none of them change, Hermione's arranged some tests to be carried out, which can determine whether someone is under the influence of Polyjuice Potion."

"I thought that stuff was supposed to be foolproof?" she said. "That no one could tell the difference?"

"Usually it is, but a lot of Voldemort's former supporters went underground with it, hiding from the Ministry. So Hermione cooked up a small potion, which can basically detect certain ingredients used only in Polyjuice."

She smiled. "Smart girl that."

Ron grinned. "You don't know the half of it."

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Half Hour Later:

The minutes ticked slowly by, during which Ron had gone to talk to some of the Ministry's heads, asking about what Rebecca had enquired about, if there were other ways for a person to alter their appearance. He had asked all the top witches and wizards, but all said the only other known way of changing ones self was by having their bodies altered without the use of potion (in other words; cosmetic surgery, but with magic wands instead of scalpers). However, that form of camouflage was far less effective than Polyjuice, and much easier to detect.

While they waited, Harry received news from some of Kingsley's men, who had gone to the Burrow. They reported that all the Centaurs, save Firenze who had been there to welcome them, had gone by the time they had arrived. They had left right after they realised Rebecca had escaped them yet again. But during their time there, Firenze had managed to speak a little with the one called Ronan, and was able to get some information from him.

It turned out Harry and his friends had been correct in their assumption that the Centaurs were getting help from someone. Ronan had told Firenze that Magorian had received word from someone's Patronus, telling him that Rebecca was being kept at a place called the Burrow, the home of Harry Potter's closest friend, the young man with the red hair. The Patronus had also told them where to find it.

Firenze had wanted to return to Rebecca's side instantly, but Harry said to wait there for the moment. They would need to arrange a new safehouse for her, so he told him that he might as well wait until it was all sorted, and then he would be transported there with her.

Time passed, and finally the hour was up. Harry checked his watch for the umpteenth time, and finally he stood up. "It's time," he simply said, and walked out the office door.

"May I go with you?" Rebecca asked. At Harry's startled look, and what appeared to be the start of a shake of his head, she added, "If this Umbridge woman really is in there with them, then I want to know straight from her mouth why she's been doing all this to me. Plus…sitting here by myself will drive me crazy! And the last time I went off alone with someone, I was nearly kidnapped."

Harry frowned, and twiddled his wand for a minute or two, before finally sighing, and nodded. "All right, but stay close to me, and say nothing."

She nodded, and followed him out.

They walked out of the Centaur Liaison Office, and onto the elevator that took them down from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Within moments, the elevator came to a stop at one of the floors, and the disembodied woman's voice sounded out, "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, incorporating Department of Intoxicating Substances, Improper Use of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protection Objects, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Rebecca couldn't help noticing that they were on the floor where their law enforcement office was. It seemed Harry was expecting to make an arrest.

After walking further along a few corridors, and through several doors, they came to a room where the trio of her former bodyguards were waiting. However, not one of them looked any different from the way she had first seen them.

Covering up her surprise, she turned to look at Harry, and saw his face the same as hers. He was doing a good job of covering it, but after years at her father's politician parties and such, she was a pretty good judge of character. He seemed just as surprised as she was.

Together with the three suspects, Ron and two guards in blue robes were also in the room. Harry called him over, and whispered something to him.

"We never took our eyes off them, Harry," said Ron quietly. "We checked and double checked everything they had on them, and everything they ate and drank. There's no trace of Polyjuice on them."

"They could have always taken a stronger dose," he replied. "Do you have the potion from Hermione?"

"Yup. I was just waiting for you." He reached into his pocket, and fished out a small purple bottle. "Hermione says one sip is all it'll take. If anyone has even the tiniest drop of Polyjuice in them, this stuff will know it."

"Brilliant. How does it work?"

"They have only to drink it. Once they do, and if they do have some Polyjuice in them, their bodies will turn bright purple. If not, then nothing will happen."

Harry nodded, and then turned to address the three seated individuals.

"Mr. Potter, just what in the name of Merlin is going on?!" Miss Pan demanded in her shrill voice.

"Yeah!" Abraham Bollard also demanded, his voice high and outraged. "We risk our lives protecting your charge there, and you keep us in here as though we were criminals. What gives?!"

Imogen said nothing, and just sat where she was, quiet as a mouse, staring at the scene calmly.

Harry looked at them all sternly. "I apologise for the way you've been brought here, but I assure you it is necessary." He paused for a moment, staring hard at them all. "The reason you're here now is because of the attack at the Burrow. As you know, we sent Miss Leicester there for her own protection. We took every precaution, and only a very few select people knew of her being there. Yet, despite all that, the Centaurs came and attacked the very next day. There's no way they could have known she was there…without help."

Imogen remained indifferent, yet Rebecca thought she could see a wave of sweat appear on her brow. Mr. Bollard seemed to have lost his voice, as he stared nervously at Harry, and began to give a small, sheepish laugh. "Y-y-you can't be serious?" he stuttered.

"You don't seriously think we had anything to do with it?!" Meredith Pan snapped. "Why, we were all there ourselves. We could have been killed protecting Miss Leicester against those fearsome beasts!"

Rebecca frowned a little. She knew Centaurs preferred being called beasts instead of men, but the way Meredith had said it just now, she couldn't help looking upon it as a grave insult to her friend Firenze's race.

"I realise that, Miss Pan," said Harry. "But the fact remains, only you three are left out of all the people who knew of Miss Leicester's hiding place. We've checked everyone else, and you three are the only ones unaccounted for."

"You think we're working for the Centaurs?" Meredith asked in an astounded voice. "But that's utterly preposterous! Besides the fact that we'd be risking starting a war that would threaten all of us, Centaurs also don't care much for our kind. They're a warrior people. Sneaking around and accepting gifts from strangers isn't their style."

Rebecca had to admit that she was right about that. Centaurs were a more upfront kind of race. They fought their enemies straight on, and settled to whatever task they had with their own brains and initiative.

"That's true, but even Centaurs would probably accept help from anyone who told them where to find a person they'd been searching years for," added Ron. "Besides, they'd still need to track her down, and capture her."

Meredith glared at him. "Even so, to suggest that either of us would…"

"We're not merely suggesting it," Harry interrupted, "but we are investigating it. But first, before all else, we have to learn if you three are who you say you are."

"Eh?" said Abraham, looking up in confusion, Meredith as well. Imogen also looked a little pink around the cheeks now.

Harry held out the purple bottle. "I want each of you to take a sip from this."

"Why?" Abraham asked, looking at it suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Something that can determine once and for all who you are, or at least who you appear to be. It's perfectly safe, and has been tested. And I should warn you that should you refuse to take this, it will be noted down to use against you later in court."

"Court?!"

"Drink!" Harry added, a little more forcefully, and handed the bottle over to Mr. Bollard. The man gulped, but unscrewed the cork off the bottle, and lifted it up to his lips.

Rebecca leaned her head slightly forward, watching anxiously, as she expected Abraham Bollard's entire face to go purple at any second.

He held the bottle before him for a second, before finally lifting it up, as though for a toast. "Bottoms up," he said, and took a swig from it.

She held her breath, and then…nothing.

He lowered the bottle back down, and tilted his head slightly to the right. "Not as good as Butterbeer, but definitely a whole lot better than Fire Whiskey."

If anyone had had a feather on them at that moment, they could have easily knocked Rebecca down with it. She had been so certain that it would be him! Looking over at Harry and Ron, she didn't see the same expression of shock on their faces, but could tell they were a little surprised, considering all that Rebecca had told them.

Bollard passed the bottle to Imogen, who took it without question. Just as it had been with her male colleague, so was it with her…no effect. Her skin remained as clear as ever.

'Two down, one to go,' Rebecca thought, and looked over at Miss Pan. She had on her face a nervous expression, like she were afraid that something was about to be exposed any second now. 'Which it could be?' she thought.

Imogen handed the bottle over to Meredith. She stared at it for a few seconds longer than any of the others, and then finally took a careful sip out of it.

She watched and waited, as did Harry and Ron. They watched and waited for a good half-minute, and…nothing. Meredith remained as colourless as she had always been.

She didn't know who was the more shocked and disappointed, her or Harry.

"Well, what else?" Meredith asked snidely. "Should we hand you our wands, make a statement, or perhaps give a detailed account of our history over the past several years?!"

"That's enough, Miss Pan," said Ron warningly.

"The three of you can go now," Harry simply replied, earning a strange look from Ron and Rebecca.

"About time, too!" Meredith snapped, getting up.

"Keep in mind, though, that nothing has changed. We know that someone has been leaking information to the Centaurs, and you three are still the most likely suspects. Until we can prove otherwise, all three of you will remain under constant observation."

"Of course, of course," said Abraham, laughing slightly, seemingly getting his humour back. Meredith remained high strung and angered, and left with her nose held high. Imogen said nothing, but bowed her head politely.

"Please let me know if there is any way I can help," she said, and left with the others.

When the door closed behind them, Ron looked at his friend incredously. "Harry, why the devil did you let them go?"

"What else could I do?" he replied, letting some of the frustration fill his voice. "I thought for sure Umbridge was one of them, but now it seems she has an accomplice."

"Could she have found a way to hide the Polyjuice in her?" she asked.

Ron and Harry both shook their heads. "No way," said Harry. "That potion's full-proof. Anyone who's had Polyjuice doesn't have a chance in concealing it. Hermione made sure of that, and trust me, when she's certain of something, she's certain."

'And there's no other way to change one's appearance,' she thought. 'At least none that can't be detected.'

"So we're back to square one," fumed Ron. "Maybe Umbridge isn't involved in this at all? Maybe we're just clutching at straws?"

"No, I don't believe so," said Harry. "I've tried to look at this from all sides, and while there is the smallest chance that Umbridge may indeed not be involved, I don't believe it. Her so-called death at Azkaban, the trouble with the Centaurs occurring not long after, witch-nobodies suddenly trying to kidnap Rebecca, and the Warden's death just as he was about to mention Umbridge...it's all connected. It has to be!"

"But, Harry, if she was then that means she would have to be posing as one of the guys directly connected to Rebecca, like those three. But she isn't."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I know. But maybe she's someone else, like that witch that tried to take Rebecca before. For all we know, she could be posing as the security guard."

Rebecca stared at him, a little in disbelief. "Okay, now you're starting to sound paranoid."

He shrugged. "Even so, I want Hermione to make plenty of that potion of hers, Ron. Test everyone you can."

Ron gave him a bewildered look. "And what am I supposed to tell them?!"

Harry shrugged again. "Tell the truth, or say we've been commissioned by a new drinks company to test their latest beverage. Use your imagination."

Ron looked like he was ready to faint.

"In the mean time," Harry then added, and looked back to her. "We'd better find somewhere new for you to stay. The Burrow has been compromised, and thus is no longer safe."

She smiled sadly at him. "Is there any place that actually is anymore?"

Neither of them seemed able to answer her.

To Be Continued…