Chapter Six
Whilst Draco tried to make Ginny come to, Fred strode to the study to examine the cupboard. "Well," he said gravely upon his return, "there's no doubt about it. There's a killer in the house. None of us could have broken into the cupboard; none of us have our wands." He looked from Minerva, clutching her heart and staring fearfully at the body of her former pupil, to his sister in Draco's arms. "Neither of you two have killed, that much I am certain."
It wasn't much consolation. Four people had died and now there was a madman in the house with the two remaining weapons.
"I want to get out!" Hermione, usually the voice of reason and calm in the Power Trio, was suddenly hysterical. She ran into the hall, nearly slipping over on the polished parquet and slammed into the front door, tugging on the handle. "Locked!" she choked. "We've been locked in!"
Fred went into the dining room, attempting to wrench open a window. "This is locked too! We have no escape." He looked panicked, and his expression grew even more so when he pointed at the table. "Look, another figure..."
They all rushed in. Sure enough, a fourth figure had been modified; it was in a sitting position on the 'floor', a hole through its chest and a snapped toothpick representing Neville's snapped wand. He'd tried to defend himself, but it had all been in vain.
"Where's the butler, he must have the key?" Draco appeared, supporting a pasty-faced Ginny.
They all hurried out but were suddenly aware that none of them had the faintest idea where the butler would be: his appearances were sparse and he definitely hadn't been in the kitchen when they'd discovered the cook. Just then, Ginny pointed a shaking finger to the entrance to the kitchen passage.
On the floor, just inside the passage, lay a spanner.
Laying the butler's body next to that of his colleagues, the six guests stopped for a moment to re-evaluate their situation. Here they were, in a country manor house, with five dead bodies, a killer on the loose and no means of escape. This coupled with the sinister figures on the table – they all knew there would eventually be one in imitation of the butler, hit over the head with the spanner – was aspiring to all new levels of Bête-Noire.
Searching through Hodgeson's pockets, Draco shook his head, unable to find a door key. They found the key to the cupboard, but his chatelaine was missing; he had definitely been jangling when they had seen him throughout the evening.
"The killer must have taken it." Ginny's voice was barely a whisper. "We're trapped."
"And one of us has to die." George's comment was unhelpful but true. "There's a sixth and final figurine on the table."
"I suggest we search the house again," Minerva croaked, sounding as though it was merely to keep them occupied until the terror of night was over and the cold light of morning could chase the frights away.
The twins remained behind in the kitchen. Fred picked up the cleaver that Draco had abandoned earlier and jumped into the pantry, secret agent style, brandishing the huge knife dangerously. "I CAN SEE YOU!" he shouted to the assortment of tins on the shelves.
Snorting at his brother's comical searching style, George set about examining some cupboards he'd noticed earlier. One of them turned out to be a large meat locker and George pushed aside the chickens hanging inside to ensure there wasn't anyone hiding under an invisibility cloak or something. He knocked a meat hook which seemed to rise like a lever and suddenly, silently, the rear of the locker opened, revealing another secret passage.
"Cor," Fred breathed, dropping the cleaver and joining his twin. "Nice find Forge."
George grinned. "Thanks Gred." Together they set off along the narrow passage, feeling their way down until they came to the end. Pushing on the wall, it swung open, revealing a surprised Hermione and Ginny in the study, gently moving Neville's body next to that of Snape.
They'd stepped out of a large painting on the far wall of the study. Its occupant, a rather ugly old man, was snoozing peacefully, unaware as to the two deaths that had occurred within the room, let alone him being swung open and used as access for the killer.
"This must be how the killer disposed of the cook." Hermione paced over to the painting, pushed it open and peered down the gloomy brick passage. "The killer must have come out from where he or she was hiding, walked down the passage and killed the cook. Then, whilst we were distracted in the kitchen with the body, he snuck out through the secret passage. He must have stayed there hearing us lock the weapons in the cupboard, and then when we split up he bust it open." She pointed at Neville, lying as if he were sleeping – if one could imagine the gunshot wound in his chest was absent of course. "Neville goes to investigate, sees the killer and in trying to defend himself and us, gets shot."
There was silence for a few minutes.
"Explains why we could never find him, even if he'd been in the room moments beforehand," George said, pushing the painting, which had now closed. George gently pushed it; it swung open with relative ease and as soon as George let go swung back, as if it were spring loaded. In the time it had taken for them to run to investigate the gunshot, the killer had easily slipped back into the lounge's secret passage and run through to the conservatory, and why he'd not been visible when Snape had been bludgeoned. It also explained how he was able to get out of the kitchen to do so, so easily.
Hermione sat down in a chair not occupied by a corpse and nibbled on her lip. "So at the beginning of the evening, the killer had to have been in the house right? He must have hidden in the secret passage from here to the kitchen, listening to our conversation, so when we left to investigate Neville's sudden appearance upstairs, he could slip out and grab the noose, goback down to the kitchen and strangle Salome. Whilst we ran to go to her and Snape ran in here to get the gun, he was hit over the back of the head by the killer, who was still in the secret passage."
They sat or stood there, deliberating what Hermione had just told them. It did make an awful lot of sense. Hermione called the others in to relay her theory on the murders of Salome and Snape; Minerva's eyes nearly popping out of her skull.
Draco gave a low whistle. "But there's one thing I don't understand."
"One thing?" Ginny chuckled bitterly.
"We still don't know why the killer, whoever he or she may be, is doing this." Draco carried on as if Ginny hadn't spoken. "I mean, if it's someone we've pissed off, then why aren't we dead? Why are the only people who've died been servants or innocent bystanders like Longbottom?"
"Are you forgetting where Neville stands in this?" Ginny hissed. "He's the father of two of my three children."
George's eyes widened. "You don't think Harry could be behind this do you?"
Draco gave an audible laugh. It was such a welcome sound, so genuine, that they all started to laugh, even Minerva who had been looking as if she were about to have a severe heart attack any moment.
"It would make sense," Hermione chortled reasonably. "I mean, Salome was his former mistress, and it's likely she really did tell him about Neville and Albus and Lily. But look on the other hand," she added quickly as Ginny's face flushed with anger, "it's highly unlikely that Harry would resort to murder, much less the murders of people who had nothing to do with that: I'm pretty sure he didn't know the butler or the cook, or have any real reason to kill Snape." She deliberately ignored Fred's cough.
Just then they herad a barely audible scuffle from behind the portrait, still snoozing to George's left.
They sprang into action. Fred pushed open the painting and flung himself through it, his brother and sister at his heels. The other three left the bodies to run to the kitchen.
Through their pounding heartbeats and rapid breaths they could hear feet running away from them down the uneven passageway floor. Tripping over loose flagstones – there was one hairy moment when George fell into he wall hard and grazed his face on the brick, nearly knocking himself out in the process – they raced through the passage, noting it seemed to have grown exponentially in the few minutes since they had last traversed it.
Meanwhile, Minerva, Draco and Hermione were racing into the kitchen, each taking a hold of a utensil or item of cookware in order to subdue the killer. They could hear the feet approaching through the still open passageway.
"Idiot must've followed the twins down the passage, hoping to get at them," Minerva said, brandishing a wok.
With a crash, the twins fell through the opening, panting. Minerva nearly brought her wok down on Fred's head.
"WHERE IS HE?" bellowed Minerva passionately, making Hermione and Draco jump a mile in the opposite direction, aware she was holding some very heavy cookware.
"There's – another – passageway," George wheezed. "He – must've – slipped – down – it." He pointed a shaking finger down the passage, leaning on his knees to get his breath back. The other three pushed impatiently past him – Minerva kept a hold of the wok – and hurried down the darkened passage.
Eventually they came to Ginny, standing at an opened trapdoor. "I found it," she whispered superfluously, and crouched down, picking up her skirt.
Feeling their way down the steps, the six of them emerged into another passageway, leaning steeply downwards. It smelled as fi it came out in the cellar. In the distance, they could hear footsteps and thuds, as if someone were crashing around, trying to get out. Steeling their Gryffindor nerve, bravery and chivalry – Draco decided he could be an honorary Gryffindor for this time being – they all walked forwards.
Sure enough, they emerged into the cellar. The door was open, indicating that whomever it was had gone upstairs. Fred grabbed Ginny and immediately ran back up to the secret underground passage. The other four pressed on, hearing feet upstairs.
When they emerged into the hall they could hear nothing. Fred came running out of the kitchen and Ginny from the study, both claiming that nobody was in those passages, so they split into threes again to instigate the other passage.
"Wild goose chase?" Hermione muttered darkly as they hurried through the fireplace, fed up.
It wasn't until they were halfway down that they realised it wasn't a wild goose chase.
Crouching down, trying to pull at what must be the other trapdoor to the cellar, was a figure dressed in black, hood of its cloak pulled over its head. It was tugging at the trapdoor, but realised it was locked just too late, as it looked up and saw Hermione, George and Ginny hurtling towards him. It got up and sprinted towards the other end of the passage, seemingly not realising that there was a woman with a wok standing on the other side.
BANG!
The deafening sound shook the foundations of the house and there were quick footsteps towards the conservatory from the hall: it sounded as if someone had just balsted the front doors into oblivion.
The figure crashed through the open entrance in the conservatory and there was a sickening smack as Minerva made her presence known with the wok. There was a clang as something, presumably the candlestick, was dropped and then a huge shuddering gasp as the perpetrator was recognised, followed by an unmasculine squeak from one of the men.
Hermione, Ginny and George, who had been rooted to the spot, suddenly regained function of their legs and sprinted the last few metres of the passage, popping out of the doorway like skittles in a bowling alley in time to see Albus Dumbledore himself holding the candlestick aloft. The clang had been from the wok hitting the fladstone floor.
Hermione tripped over the body on the floor and landed sprawled across Draco, who had fainted. The reason as to why became immediately apparent.
"Ah," said Dumbledore pleasantly, looking down a t the body of Lucius Malfoy, the candlestick still in his hand. "I see I arrived just in time."