WARNING: There is a section of this story that is NOT suitable for all readers. You will be warned at the start of section and the end. It contains descriptive information on an attack. PLEASE read responsibly.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.
Enjoy...
Chapter Twenty
March 3rd …
01:53 AM
Thump. The pile of cases lands on the desk startling the young desk Sergeant and causing him to drop his drink. Brown liquid splashes across the tiled floor as the light flickers overhead. A smile, sadistic in nature flashes from the shadows, arms folded eyebrow raised. She sees he's Adam's apple bob eyes drawn to the mass of files.
"Head Auror," He whispers hands tentatively reaching for the first file.
"Jenkins," Bella states glancing at the plaque on the table. "Lovely to see you,"
"What is this?"
"Well, since I saw you working so diligently I thought you could assist me on some dates."
"Dates?" The whine of his voice as he contemplates all the files in front of him.
"Yes," The flash of teeth. "I need to check some dates with you regarding the Sunset Killer. Going back say five years ago."
"Five years?" He squeaks tugging at his collar.
"We're looking for Jane Doe, found on December 11th or 12th."
"Five years ago?" He questions.
"Did I stutter?"
"No, no ma'am." His hands tap the desk glancing around the room. "It's nearly 2 am."
"And? Are you not working, I can see you must be on your break," Her eyes land on the open pornography on his desk.
Smack, his hand lands on the barely hidden magazine, dragging it from the desk he throws it into his drawer. Blushing deep red, he tugs at his collar straining his neck as he checks the near-empty office.
"I should check with Bones," He mutters.
"At this hour? I can imagine what she would say about that and well your choice of literature." Bella comments. "I tell you what, how about you start looking and I go make you a nice coffee?"
"Umm…"
"I wasn't aware that this a request," Bella retorts bored, anger seeping in. "Now, do your job, or I will replace you with someone who will."
"You don't run this department," He answers bravely.
"Boy, the shit I have on your boss, you bet I have enough to revamp this shit hole." She forces a smile. "Now, how about that drink?"
"Sounds lovely," He nods. "Five years ago… I'll start looking."
"Good lad,"
'I just need space'. They chase her, the words haunting her every step. She had tried to go home, leaving Hermione with Weasley in the street. Both acted blasé over the break-in as though it were nothing. Watching them walking arm in arm, she nearly vomited.
She loves me. Her fist hits the wall above the kettle, cursing under her breath. She should have said something, anything at that moment. She has never seen the witch look so small, so vulnerable. Fuck Andy for planting the seed. Why did I have to just blurt it out? The thoughts plague her, what was she thinking? Right after being burgled, she asks Hermione if she's in love. God, Bella's timing is atrocious.
It doesn't have to change anything, they can still be best friends, but it feels as though everything has changed. A weight has formed in her chest, she's not sure she's ever been in love before. Her thoughts are whirling, spiralling out of control. The need to see Hermione, it's a permanent itch, to be close to the witch. The idea that she's with Weasley tonight, is soul destroying, the thought she could be responsible for hurting Hermione. Although by accident just by her mere presence. The idea their friendship may never return to normal and that everything will be strained.
Accidental touches, hugs and suggestive remarks will be second-guessed. A new dance will start trying to avoid stepping on the live grenade that has landed between them. One wrong move could cause a disaster. But worse. When Hermione falls out of love if she falls for someone else. Bella would have to watch from the side as the younger witch starts to date. Watch her fall in love, would they marry? Would they have children, would they buy her out of the shop?
She clutches her chest, her heart is burning, as though it's tearing itself apart. She's had feelings for others, of course, she has. Fleeting emotions, lust, need and want, but nothing more. She had no feelings for Rod, just a duty, she liked Tom, and they were compatible. It was her duty to marry well, to uphold the family's reputation. She did her duty she married Rod, she dated Tom. Both are respectable wizards of the community until reflection. Now a muggleborn is declaring her feelings, declaring love, the unknown emotion. A word never spoken in her life, what use is love? Duty. Her life was of duty, the need to protect her sisters was her duty. To continue the family legacy duty. Her marriage was a duty.
Love?
No, no one taught her of love, she had read them in the stupid books at school. Scoffed at the idea of people throwing their careers, and their lives away for those they loved. She had watched Andy throw her life away for love, watched the family cast her out. Love brought nothing but disaster.
Her hands clutch the side, the kettle hissing steam as she clutches her chest. If this is what it feels like to be in love? This pain. She doesn't want it. Bella's not capable of love. What would her family say? What would they think? Her father would roll in his grave over the idea of Bella just associating with Hermione. But love?
"Careful, the steam might make you melt,"
Her hands tighten on the side before she pushes away rising to her full height and turning to the witch. Purple hair, spiked, arms folded, Bella smirks at the younger witches' attempt to appear threatening. It's hilarious, she'll give the girl credit, she's got spunk.
"Nymphandora," Bella greets causally.
"You don't get to call me that," the bite of the words, the hair morphs in colour.
"You still haven't got control of that?" Bella remarks gesturing to the witch's hair, the flush on pale cheeks. "Hmm, disappointing."
"Look, my mother may have brought my father's excuses about the business, but I know this has you all over it." The hiss, the false accusation.
"What are you insinuating?" Bella asks reaching for two mugs, she sets them aside using the spoon she adds the coffee.
"You brought my father out, you stole his business, and there's no way what he said is true. It's bull shit."
"How Hufflepuff of you, to remain so loyal."
"Don't deflect," Tonks snaps. "So, what do you have on him? Huh, what's your plan?"
"I was going to make a coffee, then return to work," Bella answers pouring in the hot water, the smell of coffee helps relieve the stress. "Would you like a cuppa?"
"Only to splash in your face."
"Feisty,"
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Boots step closer.
Andy's fire burns through Nymphandora's veins, she can see it flash in the depths of the witch's eyes. It's a pity, she would be a great asset if she weren't so damn clumsy. In truth, Bella kept the witch are arm's length, she couldn't be blamed if something happened to the girl. She kept her out of the Auror unit, if she's injured on the job, then that was down to Mad-Eye, not Bella. Her hands would be clean.
"What's going on 'ere!" The clacking of staff the thumping of a boot and the stamping of a wooden leg announces Mad-Eye
"Nothing," Tonks shrugs as Moody appears. "Just a family chat."
"Strange, I didn't realise I had any family in the building," The visible recoil of Tonks tells Bella the witch has so much to learn. "Here I thought you taught your recruits how to walk, Alastor, before they try to run."
She gathers her mugs of coffee side-stepping the mentor and student. Although Tonks has become an Auror fully, the witch still leans heavily on Moody for guidance. Listening to the hissing between the Aurors as she heads back to Jenkins to continue where they left off.
05:45 Am
"I've spoken to Shacklebot," Dolohov states as he enters her office. "He wasn't impressed at the time,"
"Did you state the urgency?" Bella questions combing through the information on her desk.
"Yes, he's speaking with some judges as we speak," Dolohov concludes. "He will send for us."
"Fantastic."
Jenkins had proven incredibly useful, finding a report of a twenty-year-old muggleborn, who died in the early hours of the 12th of December five years ago. The timeline was coming together, slowly bit by bit, it was all coming together.
"Have you had any sleep?" Dolohov asks.
She waves off the question, Amelia Bones had asked the same question when she bumped into Bella leaving the law enforcement office. The witch was not impressed at having Bella in her department. She'll be even less impressed shortly.
"You need to speak to Bones about this night," Bella orders sliding the file across to Dolohov.
"Why me?"
"We have history," Bella shrugs.
Shaking his head he collects the file flicking through the pages the sharp inhale of his breath. She knows the moment his eyes trace back to Bella.
"Are you sure about this?"
"We need her statement," Bella remarks pushing to her feet. "Before the meeting, go."
Without argument he heads from the room, heading to the next floor to discuss the file with Bones. He will get the statement Bella knows he will, Dolohov is an expert at getting witness statements.
She checks the time, waiting for word from Shacklebot. The coffee is making her buzz, and the lack of sleep, but what can she do? Go home, stare at her ceiling, and wait for Hermione to message her. Hope the witch will message. No, she needs to work, to keep busy because if she stops, she's scared the thoughts and feelings will emerge. Eventually, the distractions will stop and will have no choice but to face her thoughts. Her fears. Not yet though. Not yet.
10:17 Am #Caution – Honestly read responsibly#
Quiet, the house is silent, unmoving. The darkness clings to the hallways, creating shadows, despite the glorious sun, the beams of light fail to pierce the gloom that lingers. The pictures watch impassive from the walls, observing, judging and never moving.
Thumb and finger rub together the glint of steel, eyes closed he waits, patient. Resting against the wall, the perfect angle for the hallway. Observing any who enters, he can see all the doors.
The clunk of the front door as it slumbers open, bringing with it the fresh air. Hesitant steps, they pass through the doorway the brown hair swinging in the breeze. The smell of passionfruit, he inhales observing the witch.
"Bellatrix?" Cautious the voice calls out in the dark of the hallway. "I got your letter."
The door swings shut, and he moves from the shadow making the witch startle, turning the witch presses a hand to their chest shocked. The surprise turns to confusion.
"Tom?" He smiles at the witch. "I thought Bellatrix…"
The steel of his knife cuts deep, slicing through her cloak, and digging into the skin. With a gasp of pain, the shudder of the body, they buckle. The splutter of air, the warmth gathering around his hand, the blood rushing from the wound. It coats his fingers.
Hands wrap around the pale neck as they stumble to the ground, knee shoved into stomach pinning. The softness of the neck, and hands hit his chest as he smiles broadly at the witch. The look of fear, the pain, the silent scream the last futile chance to call for help. The blood pooled around them. The red forming in the eyes, the pain the tears streaming down their cheeks. Yes.
Fingers sticky from the drying blood, he gleams at the witch releasing his grip with a gasp of air. Spluttering, coughing, retching. Trying to inhale air. No, this won't be quick.
"I have waited so long for this," He whispers brushing the hair from her face.
"T…"
"No, shush, we have so much time." A promise.
With a jolt, the pain rockets through his side as the hilt of his knife sticks out of his side. The trembling hand holding it in place, the hesitant tug as they try to pull it loose. Fury, fills his veins, how dare she? The filthy animal. He pulls the knife free, driving it down, and slicing her hands. He embeds it deep into her chest, the hilt snapping off as he hits the bone.
A slap to the face, the choking of the air. His hands wrap around her throat, tightening. He can feel the muscles straining, the throat, it's turning to mush in his hands.
"I've dreamt of this." He whispers.
11:03 Am #End of Caution#
Bella studies the three wizards, Shacklebot sat between the residing Wizamagot judges, the crease of eyebrows. The concern, the information sprawled across the desk. It's damning, and dangerous, for everyone. If she's wrong it will be the end of her career, it would mean a lawsuit it would damage the trust the public has in the Ministry.
If she's right, it's damning and dangerous the trust of the public in the Ministry would be damaged. If they go ahead with charges it would spell a disaster in public opinion. If they don't go ahead with the charges and the information is leaked it would be a huge disaster.
"We are looking at a high-ranking Ministry official," Hendy the older wizard states calmly, voice edged with concern. "It is concerning. If we are wrong, think of the consequences."
"If Head Auror Black is correct and we do nothing, think of the consequences if turns out to be true," Merryn the youngest Wizaemgot, who provides over public opinion more than criminal cases.
"There is not enough for charges to be levelled," Hendy states turning back to Bellatrix.
"I have more evidence processing, my colleague Dolohov is waiting on the results," Bella answers hands folded.
"Which evidence would this be?"
"Fingerprints," She pulls a file close. "On March 2nd Miss Granger's bookshop was broken into."
"Granger?" Hendy questions.
"Miss Granger brought in the Wizarding Motions act if you recall," Shaklebot informs the older wizard.
"Ah yes, she was tenacious, she runs a bookshop now?"
"Yes."
"Waste of talent," A shake of the head. "The relevance to this being?"
"I believe Tom Riddle was responsible for breaking into her shop."
"Why?" Merryn questions.
"I believe he was hoping to catch her alone," Bella informs them. "On February 19th Tom assaulted Miss Granger in her bookshop. I thankfully intervened and he left."
"The report?" Hendy demands.
"Miss Granger refused to file an assault charge," Bella grits out.
"Why?" Shacklebot asks.
"Given Mr Riddle's reputation as high ranking official and that I used to date Mr Riddle, which would be a clash of interest, she deemed it would be foolish to press charges."
"She would be right,"
"She normally is."
"But you feel, Mr Riddle returned last night to… finish the job so to speak? What evidence do you have?"
"On December 11th five years ago, Mr Riddle made a pass on Miss Granger during a Christmas party, she rejected his advances. Embarrassed, he referred to Miss Granger in derogative slurs."
"Does not make him a killer," Hendy retorts.
"No, but Head of Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was at the party at the time, she saw the altercation. This resulted in Riddle being thrown from the party by Mrs Bones." Bella continues undisturbed by the interruption. "On December 12th at 02:03 Am a body was discovered, a muggleborn, five foot five, twenty years old. A street away from the party, Mr Riddle was removed from the party just after one am."
"Coincidence," Merryn states.
"This picture here is Amber Henderson, the girl found that night, this picture is Miss Granger, taken five years ago." Bella slides the photos in front of the wizards. "The resemblance is uncanny."
"What else do you have Black?" Shacklebot asks.
"This was the first kill similar in nature to Sunset Killer's signature. No further killings were reported for four years. For three years and eleven months, Riddle was abroad on work. He returned to the country. Two months later, the second victim was found in Diagon Alley."
"How many victims so far?"
"Eleven."
"How many can you tie him to?" Hendy questions studying the notes over his glasses.
"None as of yet." Bella sighs. "Bones has made a statement for December 11th…."
The knock at the door interrupts her, turning she sees Dolohov stride in pressing the file into Bella's hand. Flicking the file open, Bella scans the information satisfaction taking hold.
"Proof Riddle was in Granger's house last night, we have his thumbprint on the inside of the flat door," Bella states triumphantly.
"Easily argued," Merryn counters with a shake of the head. "Mr Riddle could have visited Miss Granger at any stage leading to the fingerprint."
"There's also his blood," Dolohov states.
"Blood?" Merryn repeats.
"Yes, Sir," Bella nods at the wizard to continue. "Two droplets of blood were found in the flat, it was matched to Riddles."
"Where was this blood found?" Hendy demands.
Hesitant, Dolohov glances at Bella before flicking through the file, he pulls out two pictures.
"One droplet was found at a broken entrance, a splash on the steps. The other found in her underwear draw."
"Could be argued evidence planted, given the history, the defence may argue Miss Black was looking for revenge on a breakup." Merryn reasons.
"Let me see," Bella demands snatching the picture.
She stares at the picture of the underwear drawer open, this is not a surprise, Crooks had a habit of opening the drawer and sleeping in Hermione's clothes. A smile forms on her lips.
"Miss Black?" Merryn calls noticing the smile.
"Crookshanks," Bella grins.
"And what is a Crookshanks that?" Hendy asks.
"It's a cat, Miss Granger has a Kneazle cat, he sometimes sleeps in her clothes drawer. He doesn't like to be disturbed especially by people he doesn't know." Bella summarises pointing to the picture. "The draw isn't fully open, Riddle didn't go through the draw."
"So your saying?" Shacklebot fishes.
"She keeps important information in this vase above the draw, it's been ransacked. Riddle looking for who knows what would have startled Crookshanks and caused the cat to scratch him. That's how his blood got in the flat."
"If that's true," Dolohov nods. "There will be fibres on his clothes as well as cut on his hand or arm."
"We need a statement," Hendy decides. "Miss Granger needs to give a statement from December 11th. The blood and fingerprint are enough to bring Riddle in for questioning, but we need more if you are hoping to charge him with any murders."
"We just need a warrant for his homes." Bella ensures them. "We'll find the evidence there."
"Get Miss Granger's statement I will give you the warrants." Hendy decides. "And people, I don't need to stress that this needs to stay quiet for the time being. No dramatic handcuffs, at this stage Riddle is looking for domestic charges only. Understood?"
"Yes sir," Bella and Dolohov reply in unison.
"And Black, you cannot lead this case, Miss Granger is right, it's a case of conflict if you remain."
"I understand, Dolohov will be leading the case," Bella reassures ignoring the shocked look from the wizard.
"Excellent, get me that statement."
They exit the room, heading to the floo network, they will get the statement from Hermione. Hopefully, the witch won't refuse.
"Bella what if we don't find any evidence?" Dolohov questions.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there… Weasley!" She snaps the name at the wizard pouring himself a coffee. "What are you doing here?"
"Working," Weasley answers glancing around uneasily.
"You're meant to be with Granger."
"She went back to work, don't look at me like that, she's got Sheryl and my sister with her."
"Great, a baker and a pregnant witch, brilliant." Bella scoffs.
"Hey, Hermione doesn't need protecting," Ron answers. "Besides she wanted to see if Crooks returned…. Where are you going?"
Ignoring the wizard, Bella picks up the pace, needing to see Hermione.
11:33 Am…
The little bell jingles above the door as Bella storms into the bookshop. The shop still operating, of course, Hermione would open the shop. The destruction is only to the back, Hermione wouldn't want to stop trading just for a minor issue. The smell of food makes her stomach grumble, she needs something to eat.
Hermione isn't in the shop, no surprise as she imagines the witch is upstairs tidying up the mess in the flat. Will Hermione be angry that Bella is visiting so soon after asking for space? No, this is important, Hermione will understand that. The thought fades when she realises the strange looks she's receiving from Sheryl and Ginny.
"What?" Bella questions the witches. "I'm here to see Hermione, it's work-related."
God's, she hopes the younger witch hasn't told Ginny and Sheryl about the previous evening. Surely not.
"Umm…" Ginny glances confused at a letter on the desk. "I'm confused,"
"It's rather simple," Bella jibes. "Is she upstairs?"
"No, Hermione is with you?"
A shiver runs through her body, the words turn her to ice. Her eyes were drawn to the letter sitting on the desk. What did Ginny mean, Hermione was with her?
"She received a letter from you, asking to meet." The redhead plucks the letter from the desk handing it to Bella. "She left to go to yours."
"I didn't send this," Her eyes scan the letter, it's her seal on the letter, but she didn't send it.
"How long ago did she leave?" Dolohov questions.
"Over an hour ago."
"My house," Bella snaps turning on her heel, Dolohov on her tail. "I want reinforcements to my house right now."
"What's happening? Black! What's happening!"
"Stay here, if she returns let me know," Bella orders the bell jingling as the door shuts behind them.
12:00 PM
"We're ready to breach," The wizard whispers.
It's an out-of-body experience standing at the foot of the steps to her house, watching the Auror teams ready to breach her house. Her house is bathed in darkness, something she usually enjoys now though it just seems ominous, not a single movement from inside.
"Bella, you can't," Dolohov instructs grabbing Bella's arm.
"Hermione could be in there." Bella hisses.
"I know, but you can't be involved in this, please."
Biting her lip, she steps away, tasting the iron in her mouth. Her boots crunch in the gravel, watching the witches and wizards move into position.
"Breach." Dolohov orders.
Bang. The flash of lights, the doors blowing inwards, the smash of glass. Impassive she watches them burst their way into her house, the need to be sick growing. Hermione won't be here, no she would have known the letter was fake. Besides, Hermione wanted space, needed space she wouldn't come.
Her chest is tightening, breathing is difficult, and her fingers dig through her cloak into her thigh. Trying to ground herself, she hears the shouting from inside. Someone is in her house, she can hear the team shouting for someone to lower their weapon. She should be in there, not standing outside watching.
"Healers, we've got a body, a witch," A voice calls.
Boots pound the familiar steps, she's moving to charge up the stairs to her house, shoving anyone out of her way. Arms grab her stopping her from advancing further into the house. Blood. It's everywhere a river instead of a rug, it covers the hallway.
The witch is lying there eyes unseeing, brown hair with dried blood caked. Dead. The healers push past, dropping to their knees trying to find a pulse. So very dead.
"It's not her," Dolohov is holding her back, hands gripping hard enough to leave bruises. "Bella, it's not Hermione,"
Her eyes trail to the letter in the witch's hand, following the bloodied footsteps to the sickly pale wizard leaning propped up against the wall. Blood spooling from a wound in his side. Tom. Still alive, ragged breathes healers move next to him as Aurors check him for weapons.
"Self-defence," Tom whispers. "Bones attacked me."
Amelia Bones is dead on the floor of her house. Where's Hermione, she should be here, her eyes searching through the gloom.
"There's no sign of her," Dolohov informs Bella as though reading her thoughts. "Hermione's not here."
"Where is she?" Bella demands eyes falling on the wizard. "Tom!"
"Bones attacked me," Tom repeats lips pale.
"He's lost a lot of blood," A healer comments.
"Where's Hermione!" Bella shouts her voice ringing in the hall.
"Bella," Tom greets with a tired smile. "She attacked me."
"Where's Hermione?"
"Bella no!"
Her wand is lifting, and Dolohov tackles her, forcing her wand away from the injured wizard. She feels several pairs of hands grab her holding her back. Her voice is raw, shouting at the wizard, heart pounding. There forcing her back, she's raging a barely contained cyclone, wanting to deliver punishment.
A smile. Slow. Calculated, pale lips turning up at the corners. Grey eyes gleaming withheld knowledge. Hermione. He knows where she is.
"Bones attacked me." He repeats coldly.
She charges at him.
"Outside!" They drag her from the house, several Aurors holding her back. "Bella, stop."
Pushing away, she runs a hand through her hair, wands are drawn they hold her back, a pack of Aurors between her and Tom. She could cut them down, she could cut them all day to get her hands on Tom. Their eyes are watching Bella's hand, watching her wand, they know exactly what she's capable of. She's beaten every single one of them in a duel before.
"Bella, I need you to calm down," Antonin orders putting his wand away.
"He knows where Hermione is." Bella reasons eyes darting to the house.
"We will find her."
"Let me talk to him, I'll get him to talk," Bella begs as she steps closer to the wizard.
"You know I can't."
"Just a few minutes, Antonin, please. I'll get him to tell us everything, just a few minutes alone with him."
"Bella, you know I can't."
"Then what do you expect me to do!" Bella snaps shoving the wizard away. "WHAT!"
"Return to the bookshop," Antonin answers calmly waving the Aurors away.
"No, I'm needed here."
"Bella, you're too close to this."
"This is my fucking house!"
"I know, I know." A warm hand presses against her forearm. "It's a crime scene right now. Go back to the bookshop, maybe Hermione is there?"
"He did something to her,"
"We don't know that."
"You saw him smile."
"Bella, I swear, we'll find Hermione."
"Dead or alive?"
The air is still, with no wind just sunshine, the beams of light striking the outside of her house. Her family home is now a crime scene. A sadness passes across Dolohov's face, what will they find? Hermione or a body?
She watches anger radiating as they carry Tom from the house on a stretcher an army of Aurors between him and Bella. His eyes roll to her a smile on his lips.
"It was meant to be a surprise," He calls.
"Bella, don't," Antonin warns. "Head to the shop, and wait for Hermione there. Please."
01:11 PM
The bell jingles above the door, a cold hand reaches out snapping the bell free she throws it across the shop. A thud as it hits the wall, the shock from the witches as they stare at her. Moving through the shop she hesitates.
"Is Hermione back?" Bella questions her voice emotionless.
"No," Ginny answers worriedly.
Nodding, Bella falls into an armchair, staring at the fire. A pain blossoms in her chest like spring it grows in the warmth, dying in the frost of fear. It's sucking at her draining her body, her hand shakes violently. A tear splashes against the wooden floor.
"Out!" Ginny orders a customer.
"I haven't paid for the book…"
"Congratulations it's free, goodbye."
The door swings shut, the redhead locking the customer out. With a flash of red, Ginny slides into the seat opposite Bella, staring at her, silently demanding a question.
"Where's Hermione?" Ginny questions. "Hey, what's happening?"
"I don't know," Bella murmurs for once she doesn't have an answer. Shock, she realises she's in shock.
"The hell do you mean you don't know? Black, was Hermione at yours?"
"No, Bones was."
"Bones as in Head…"
"Yeah, she's dead."
"Dead?"
"Amelia Bones is dead? How?"
"Riddle."
"Oh fuck." Ginny gasps. "Where… Bellatrix where is Hermione?"
"I don't know!" Bella snaps shoving to her feet she boots a table over. "I don't fucking know! Alright?"
Panic attacks, she can feel it setting in, she clutches the nearby bookshelf staring at the front door willing it to open. She broke the bell, how will she know if Hermione comes home if the bell doesn't ring?
"I don't know," Bella repeats sinking to the floor.
She pulls her knees to her chest, running a hand through her hair, she doesn't know. She has no idea what to do. The Aurors will be searching Riddles's houses, it'll be a blanket search, but she can't be involved. She just needs to wait. Wait for them to find Hermione. Dead or alive, only Riddle knows.