A/N: Two chapters in one day? I must love you guys. If you haven't read the previous chapter, you might wanna head back and read it. Enjoy!

Work, blessedly, went quickly after my awkward conversation with Sarah. I headed back to the flat right away to check in on Sherlock. Fortunately, he wasn't there. Most likely, he was at Bart's analyzing those samples. That should give me plenty of time to go see Minerva. It wasn't like he missed me when he was focused on the Work. He just kept talking to me whether I was there or not.

Back down the stairs and into 221C where I pulled my wand from its holster and turned on the spot. As I reappeared in Hogsmeade, I crouched so that the shadow of the Hog's Head would hide me from sight. Once I was sure that there was no danger, I stood and headed toward the castle, keeping my wand unsheathed. I suppose these habits were leftover from my time as an Auror. You always had to keep an eye out for ambushes when you hunted dark witches and wizards for a living, especially during the war. My time in Afghanistan probably didn't help me forget those habits either.

A gust of wind hit me, and I realized exactly how cold it was here. London wasn't exactly a sunny beach, but my jumper and jeans were far more suitable for its climate than it was for Scotland. I cast a quick Warming Charm and continued on my way.

There was no sign of Hagrid as I passed his cabin. I was around dinner time, so I was probably going to have to wait a little while to see the headmistress. As I passed the Great Hall, the chattering pouring from the doorway confirmed my suspicions.

Up the main staircase to the third floor, quick turn down the corridor, and I saw Minerva standing next to the stone gargoyles. She must have noticed when I entered the grounds.

"I assume you have news?" she asked.

"Er, yeah. It's not good."

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in my office." She turned to the gargoyles who jumped aside when she gave the password. She started up the stairs, and I followed a few steps behind her.

Once inside the office, she gestured for me to sit in the chair across the desk from her. "Tea?" she asked.

"Yes, please." She waved her wand and a tea pot appeared on the desk with steam pouring from the spout. Next to it were two teacups and a tartan tin that I believed she kept her biscuits in.

"What have you found?" she asked as she handed me a cup of tea and nudged the tin (full of biscuits, as I suspected) in my direction.

"Zariel is dead." I sounded much harsher coming from my mouth than Sherlock's or Lestrade's.

"Dead? How?" The headmistress sounded outraged, but I could see the distress on her face.

"A Killing Curse. No mistake."

Minerva shook her head. "Where did you find her?"

"The police found her in Muggle London. Near the Leaky Cauldron. They're trying to figure out what happened, but they're having no luck, as you would suspect."

"Do you have any idea how it happened?"

I hesitated. I didn't want to tell her about the Dark Mark, but she did ask me to find Zariel because of her interest in the Dark Arts.

"Whatever it is, Mr. Watson, I would like to know." She was very firm. She always was. There was no coddling Minerva McGonagall.

"She had a Dark Mark tattooed on her left forearm." Minerva's expression changed to one of confusion. "I know," I said, cutting off any interruption she may have made. It was a dangerous thing for me to do, but I needed to fully explain. "Only You-Know-Who could give a real Dark Mark. It was just a copy, but I think that she had fallen in with a bad crowd. Who were her parents?"

"Her father was a wizard from Spain, Guillermo Mondragon. Her mother, I think you knew, although she was several years younger than you. Pansy Parkinson, now Pansy Mondragon."

"So that explains where the interest in the Dark Arts started. The question is, who gave her the Mark? Parkinson was a real piece of work, but a Death Eater, she was not. Did the dad have any affiliation with You-Know-Who?"

"No. I checked it out. He was from one of the oldest wizarding families in Spain, however. That may explain why Pansy considered him a suitable husband in the first place."

I nodded. "I'll look into it. My flatmate is on the case, and he's going to drive himself crazy over the whole thing. Maybe I can get some of my own investigation in while he's busy."

"I appreciate it, John. Zariel wasn't a...pleasant person, but she was one of my students. I would like for this to be resolved and for those responsible to be brought to justice."

"I'll try my hardest, Minerva. It's kind of funny. My flatmate thinks that just about everyone is an idiot, myself included. But I think he's in awe of my ability to make connections. He has absolutely no idea how or why I'm able to keep up with him while others fall behind. I suppose being an Auror was good preparation for our friendship."

Minerva watched me with an unfathomable look. "I suppose so. You two sound like a match made in heaven, if I may say so."

I nodded. I knew what she was implying, but I had to agree with her sentiment. Sherlock and I just-fit.

"Don't forget to let him know that you do care for him, whatever that way may be. Albus and I were very good friends, and I do regret not telling him how much I cared for him. He was, perhaps, one of the most important people in my life, even more so than my husband was."

I was surprised. I don't think I'd ever heard her mention her private life before. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied.

"If that's all, Mr. Watson, I think you should head back to London to find out what happened to my student." I stood to leave. All my years as an Auror, Healer, soldier, and doctor, and I don't know if I've ever seen anything as scary as the conviction in her eyes.