CHAPTER 28: How To Get Away With Murder (Part 4)

Potions Classroom

4:10 a.m.

Professor Snape wasn't a teacher that would be considered lax or easygoing, he was the complete opposite. Incredibly strict, prone to bouts of anger, and all around known for his hatred of children - ironic given his profession. She had expected all of this and so much more when she decided to go to him for help. Fully prepared for his shouts and snide remarks, she had knocked on the door to his office, only to be met by an eerie silence from him. It was unnerving, the last thing she had been expecting from him.

That silence followed as she led him to the Slytherin Common Room, as he analysed the scene in front of him. When he finally spoke, she had thought she was off the hook. He was back to familiar ground for her. He made his snide comments towards Harry, berated them, and took control of the room as he ordered them around after coming up with a plan. Everyone had gone their separate ways, and she was stuck with him again.

And as they travelled the halls, that unsettling quiet returned.

There wasn't a sound, not even their footsteps, to give some comfort to the unbearable feeling Snape's silent treatment was giving her. He'd silenced their shoes and robes before they left the common room, as well as applying a disillusionment charm on the both of them. Only it was different from what she'd read about the disillusionment charm. As a seventh-year spell, she had little knowledge of the charm, however, it had been one that had grasped her interest since her early years at Hogwarts. She'd done a bit of light reading on it and, as far as she was aware, it was impossible to see people under the disillusionment charm, even when you are also under the effects of one that was applied by the same person.

So, the fact that she could still see Snape clear as day, even when none of the portraits - or even the Bloody Baron, whom they had just passed a few minutes ago - noticed them as they walked towards the Potions Classroom, was slightly unsettling.

She hadn't dared ask Snape about it. Feeling it was best to keep their mouth shut until they reached his office, that's what she did.

They walked into the main Potions classroom, straight through the group tables and supply closet, headed towards the door in the back that led towards Snape's office. That office held the attention of many students, most notably the Weasley twins, and rumours still flew to this day about what it might contain. Dark objects, illegal potions, monstrous experiments, the answer to every exam ever created, the last shampoo bottle Snape bought. She hadn't met anyone who had managed to cross over the threshold and see what was truly behind it.

Anyone but her.

As they were only a few steps away from the door, Snape lifted his hand and, without a word said, his wand flew to it in a manner so graceful it must've been practised a million times. The professor gave a sharp flick of his wand, launching a dull grey beam that crashed against the door - the remnants of the spell quickly traversing to cover the whole door before fading. Before she could inquire about it, Snape proceeded to walk straight into the door, disappearing into the other side with nothing but a cloud of dust in the shape of his silhouette left behind.

She hesitated for a moment, practically feeling the glower coming from inside the room, before sighing internally and walking straight through the door. Even after all the past two months, the feeling was foreign to her. It was nothing like the smooth transition between King's Cross and Platform 9 and 3/4, this felt like walking straight through a wall of cobwebs filled with a thousand spiders, all of them falling off as she passed through.

There was no doubt in Pansy's mind they would be this indolent if the visitor was… unwelcome.

Snape's office was incredibly unremarkable compared to what most of the population inside the castle thought it to be. No skulls were laying on his desk, no set of illegal dark artefacts, not even a cauldron in sight. The walls were completely lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe even thousands of tomes relating to Potions, Defence Against The Dark Arts, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. There was a pristine, mahogany desk in the centre back of the room with more books set in stacks on it, as well as an elegant black quill next to a parchment filled with illegible handwriting.

Of course, this was merely a cover for the professor's true workshop.

With a flick of his wand, Snape sent all the books on top of his desk flying to their respective places, and the quill and parchment were sent to one of the drawers below it. Once everything was clear, Snape waved his wand in a full circle around him before jamming it straightforward. The surrounding bookshelves began to rotate rapidly, it almost made it seem as if the floor itself was moving. It kept on, until finally, it began to slow down, gradually stopping completely. Snape strode forward, going behind his desk and grabbing a book of vivid green colour.

He pulled it only halfway out before the familiar grinding of gears began to resonating behind the walls. The section right in front of Snape briskly moved backwards before gliding off to the side, revealing a dimly lit, round staircase leading downwards.

A part of Pansy couldn't help but still admire the cunning involved behind the entrance to this hidden section of the office. Whoever had made this, they had done the whole process through muggle means, the gears and system installed completely without the aid of magic, and therefore invisible to any kind of detection spells anyone would use. The only aspect involving magic was the moving of the bookshelves, but those weren't uncommon in Magical Britain and could be easily explained. Unless you knew about the existence of this staircase and exactly what book to grab, with the bookcase is in a specific place around the room, it was almost impossible to find the hidden entrance.

Without a word exchanged, Snape began descending the stairs with Pansy in tow. Though one might expect them to be dark, filled with dust and cobwebs, it was quite the opposite. The passage looked polished and recently made, with a low roof and closed in walls, it brought a feeling of claustrophobia.

It wasn't long before the two of them reached the end of the stairs, a low arc revealing a lengthy hall. Several portraits were lining the walls, none with any names to recognise them and all of them asleep - something that had become a common occurrence. She wondered if they needed to be activated by someone to wake up. It was something Snape would do, specially since she began coming down here.

Reaching the intersection, Snape led her through the right path and entirely ignored the left hallway. The torches were darkened, and it was as if a wall of blackness was stopping her from seeing into it. Though she'd been tempted to look into it every once in a while when she was left alone, she'd never been stupid enough to explore it. Only an idiot would do something so reckless as to intrude on Snape's privacy.

As they reached the lab, Snape let her inside before slamming the door - something that made Pansy flinch from shock - before he went about casting what felt like a dozen privacy charms.

The lab was where she had spent most of her spare time when she wasn't babysitting Potter or dealing with the other Slytherins. It was a large dungeon, larger than any of the classrooms above, with half a dozen long tables, each filled with eight cauldrons and a candelabrum between each. All of them were filled with several potions, most of them she had no idea what they were, but the ones in the table nearest were hers - all healing related. It was something her grandfather had suddenly wanted her to practice, the reason she was having her private lessons with Snape. While she didn't understand the sudden need for her to be knowledgeable in these things, she wasn't complaining. Anything that would help save her life in the future was something worth studying, and given it gave her a more worthy stance with her Potions Master, there were no downsides.

However, she was sure her lessons in potions had more to do with her primary assignment than her wellbeing.

"I repaid my debt to your grandfather when I agreed with his request," Snape drawled suddenly. "That request did not cover helping cover up Potter's attack."

"I'm aware," she answered primly. "I'll make sure grandfather knows he's in your debt after your assistance with this is done."

"You have yet to inform him of this?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't had much time to correspond with him as of yet. I'm sure he'll agree with my decisions once I've explained the context behind them."

"Gifting me a favour to save Potter's life," he sneered. "I highly doubt he'll be pleased once he learns about it."

"He will be, I give you my word. You'll be repaid properly, I assure you."

"I'll hold you to that." There were a couple of seconds of silence as the two engaged in a staring contest, though, thankfully, she wasn't forced to level her Occlumency shields. "Set up a workspace while I get what I need for the potion. We don't have time to waste."

"Are you sure it's wise?" Pansy asked, immediately regretting so as Snape turned to her with a dark scowl. "Going about this with potions, extremely complex potions, I assume. Once the Aurors find them, won't they be suspicious of you?"

"That's precisely what I'm counting on," he replied intensely.

Snape's Office

4:00 p.m.

"Professor Snape," Rufus said curtly the moment the door to the Potions Master office opened, revealing the sulky man. "May we come in?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Walking into the office, he could feel as Dawlish and Shacklebolt began analysing the office itself, so he focused on the professor. Having not seen Severus Snape since Dumbledore vouched for him after the end of the last war, he could say the man didn't age well at all. For a wizard of thirty-five, he looked almost twice his age. There were deep, dark bags under his eyes, his pristine hair was now oily and grotty. His hooked nose and astonishingly black eyes were highlighted by his gaunt features and white skin. And with his purely black robes and the way he glided through the room, Rufus could've sworn he was a vampire.

His face was a mask of indifference as he stared at the three Aurors who had taken a seat in front of him. It was something that, from anyone else, would've raised suspicion. But this was Severus Snape, one of the few Occlumency masters in the country and someone renowned for being incredibly private and secretive. There was no doubt he was hiding something, regardless of what Albus preached, Severus Snape would always be a dark wizard in his eyes. Unfortunately, due to his vital part as a spy for Dumbledore, he was acquitted of all his crimes in the eyes of the law.

Very few people knew the specificity of Snape's contributions to Dumbledore, the Ministry, and Magical Britain in general. There were only thirteen people, including Snape and Dumbledore, who actually knew the full truth. A committee of randomly selected members of the Wizengamot and Ministry alike - whose names are, to this day, still unknown - were the ones that unanimously agreed to drop all charges and allowed him to be a free man.

The law was the law, regardless of his personal feelings for Severus Snape. His hands had been tied, and he hadn't had the chance to go after him since, given his unusually quiet behaviour for the past fourteen years.

Until now.

"I'm sure you know why we're here." Rufus stated after a moment of quiet.

"You want to ask me about my students." Snape drawled. "Were my personal files not enough for you, Head Auror?"

"Oh, no, they were perfectly thorough and extremely useful. Though, I must ask, how does a mere teacher like yourself know so much about your student's personal lives?"

"I'm no mere teacher," the man answered tersely. "I'm their Head of House. These students are my responsibility, most spend almost ten out of twelve months here for most of their formative years. Interacting more with their teachers than their own blood. Teaching them about potions and antidotes is less than thirty percent of my job. Hard as you find it to believe, knowing your students is more important than knowing the subject you impart."

"My, professor," Dawlish said with a hint of amusement. "That almost makes you sound like you care for them."

"It's my job." He replied coldly. "Something I take very seriously."

"I can see that."

"Is that the reason for this visit? I'd rather think you Aurors were doing something more useful with your time than asking basic questions to teenagers and praising my professionalism when such a heinous attack has left several of my wards in the infirmary."

"Of course not," Rufus placated, shooting Dawlish a reproving look before pulling a file from inside his robes and placing it on the table. "Take a look, I'd appreciate your professional opinion."

"What is this?" Snape asked as he picked up the folder and opened it up.

"These are the results of the diagnostics that Robards, our medical examiner, did on the victims of the attack. It's nothing we didn't expect. Most of the injuries were done by hexes and curses any student at Hogwarts could've found with the right books - though we did find that most were hit with one or multiple blasting curses, which makes us think it was done by a single individual with an affinity for that spell. Other minor injuries caused by non-magical means, probably results of damage after being hit by certain spells. Montague is the one with the most extensive injuries, and there's still the unknown dark curse that affects the wound on his face."

"You still haven't figured out what he was hit with?" The Slytherin asked idly, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"Unfortunately no, however we're working on it. Robards, Wilkins, and Scamander are working various scans, looking for magical signatures to pinpoint which dark curse or curses were used by comparing with our codex of all known and officially unknown dark spells to the Auror Department."

"And if you can't pinpoint any?"

"Well, as virtually all spellwork these days is built upon spells that have been around for centuries now, if my men find nothing, then it must mean it wasn't done by an actual spell, rather by a cursed item. We get a warrant from Bones, find the cursed item, run forensics which will point us to the perpetrator. Of course, that would be if we're lucky, as it is the fastest route and would quickly end the investigation."

"Naturally…"

"But that's not why we're here," Rufus added, paying close attention to Snape. "Have you noticed a similarity between the diagnostics of all the victims?"

Snape looked up from the parchment. "The unknown substance."

"Precisely."

"Well, unfortunately, I don't recognise it. Its composition is… interesting. Theoretically, it could work, but if the ingredients are accurate, they could prove extremely unstable - not to mention incredibly hard to find."

"Indeed, our experts share your views." He nodded deliberately.

"Have they theorised about its effects?"

"Purely based on its chemical composition, as well as the ingredients identified, no. However, most of the injured students have already waken up and none of them have any true recollection about what happened the previous day. At first, we thought they had been confounded but after trying to revert the process, it only worsened it. From what we can tell, this potion affects recent memories from the victim in a way that is constantly changing. They might claim something and then, fifteen minutes later, claim something else that isn't congruent with what they previously said. Multiply that by the six students, all claiming wholly different things, it hurts more than helps."

"Fascinating." Snape breathed out. "Diricawl entrails, Jobbernowl feather, lovage, powdered sage, a hint of boomslang." He composed himself before tearing his eyes away from the parchment. "Yes… theoretically, it could work. This was done by an extremely experienced brewer, someone with experience experimenting with ingredients not commonly used - the Diricawl entrails, ingenious. First time I've seen something like this."

"It makes you think about how a student could obtain a substance like this."

Snape's face transformed into an ireful glare. "I don't appreciate your insinuations, Scrimgeour."

"I made no insinuations," he answered in an icy tone. "However, since you bring it up, it would definitely merit an investigation. After all, you are the only Potions Master that currently resides within a hundred-mile radius, the victims are all Slytherins, and your past as the Death Eaters Potion Master gives credit to your ability to procure such rare ingredients and design a new potion entirely."

"You may think what you want, but you'll only be wasting your time. Any student could've found a way to smuggle in a potion that was already made and delivered by owl, perhaps at Hogsmeade, outside Umbridge's reach. And there are various children of families that are heavily involved in the potion-making industry. The Greengrasses are renowned for having a talent at potions and a good amount of them are Potions Masters, the Davises co-own the Slug and Jigger's Apothecary chain with the Browns, which has stores in pretty much every major wizarding village, including Hogsmeade. There's also the fact that pretty much every member of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers were Hogwarts alumni from pure-blood houses that are still extremely prevalent inside the castle. The Abbotts, Longbottoms, Bulstrodes, Prewetts, and Selwyns to name a few. Getting access to a potion, even one as rare and exceedingly hard to make as this one, wouldn't be as difficult as you might think."

"You might be right," Rufus shrugged. "Nevertheless, it wouldn't be right to just make assumptions like that without covering our arses. After all, we Aurors should do more to find the perpetrator than just questioning teenagers and praising students. So… we'll start with your office and then head to your classrooms?"

Snape stood up, placing his hands on the desk as he towered over the three Aurors. "I'd be happy to accompany you… after you show me your warrant."

Rufus smirked. "Gladly." Once again, reaching into his robes, he pulled out a separate piece of parchment. He stood up, standing at the same height as Snape, before handing over the warrant. "Signed by Director Bones, as you can clearly see."

Snape's eyes quickly flicked over the parchment before glaring back up at him.

"Shacklebolt, go get McLaggen, Williamson, Wilkins, and Tonks. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Slytherin Common Room

5:45 a.m.

Unfortunately for Harry and Daphne, Snape hadn't been content with just using them as errand boys, gathering ingredients for him from the greenhouses, the Care of Magical Creatures storeroom, and the Forbidden Forest. The two of them were also instructed to do most of the tedious work involved in potion making. Collecting the pus from Bubotubers, cutting up dandelion root, extracting a lionfish's spine from its body. Whatever they did, they would hand over to Pansy, who would disappear into Snape's office with nothing but a nod of thanks.

It was almost six in the morning when they finally left the Potions classroom and headed towards the Slytherin Common Room. Pansy had told them she'd catch up soon with them with the potions she had been working on with Snape. He had no idea how a potion would be able to fix any of this, neither of them had deemed it worthy of sharing the plan with anyone else. It was beginning to piss him off, but he had no choice.

As they walked down the corridor, Harry's head began pulsating painfully at the rhythm of each passing second. He'd looked at his old, battered watch for so long, he was acutely aware of every second that went by. Seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes had turned into hours. Soon enough, those hours would pass and the Aurors would arrive. He'd left his fate in Snape's hands and could already feel how the sullen man was handing out his soul to the dementors in a silver platter.

How would the kiss feel? Everyone always said it was the worst thing that could happen to a person, the very action of the consumption of one's soul directly from the body as he lives. But while most people found it agonizing, Harry couldn't help but think it to be peaceful, a mercy. In a moment, everything that would ever hurt you, any feeling of pain, betrayal, anger, depression, and sorrow would evaporate. Drift away as you were left feeling nothing at all. Feeling peace, true peace for the first time in your life.

And yet, people would rather be constantly tormented by dementors, as they relished on watching you drowning in all your worst memories until your mind broke, your soul shattered, and your body was too frail to even stand.

How mild must someone's worst memories be that they rather endure them forever than choosing a swift death?

When they entered the common room, Harry had to stop as he looked around. It looked perfect, the scars that marked the recent battle were gone, erased as if they were never there. The couches looked brand-new, even fresher than they had this morning. The curtains didn't have a single wrinkle on them, the holes on the walls had been filled so well he couldn't pinpoint where they had been. For a moment, it was as if the dementor over him was pushed away.

But only slightly.

"People are about to wake up," Daphne said, recovering faster than Harry as she removed her cloak of invisibility from them and walked towards the three boys.

"The boys are taken care of," Theo reassured them. "All of them stunned, and their alarms have been turned off completely."

"The girls on the other hand…" Blaise trailed off.

"I got it."

"Do it quick," Draco said. "Some people like to wake up at six on the dot."

"I'm well aware, Malfoy." Daphne rolled her eyes before climbing down the girls' staircase.

"Lovely, she's back to her old self." The boy sighed before dropping himself on the couch.

"Where's Pansy?" Theo asked quickly before anyone could follow up on Malfoy.

"She said she'll be here soon." Harry answered grudgingly

"Right in time for the Aurors to take us all to Azkaban," Blaise grinned sardonically.

"We're doomed." Draco moaned.

"We're not," Theo snapped.

"Yes, we are," Blaise said pointedly. "How the fuck is a potion supposed to just magically resolve our problem? There's still nine bodies on the floor!" He motioned towards the slumped up students that had been moved to the corner of the room. "One of which is only being kept alive by whatever bullshit, deus ex-machina potion Parkinson pulled out of her arse!"

"Deus ex- what?"

"Oh, forget it!" Blaise threw himself onto a chair that was nearby. "The point is we're fucked."

"O ye of little faith." Pansy's voice spoke from behind them, catching Harry's attention.

"Will you finally explain what the fucking plan is?"

"All in due time, I assure you. Here," she handed Harry a little under a dozen small vials - each containing a thick, purple liquid."

"That's what you've been working on?" Draco said in disbelief. "This is Snape's big plan!?"

"Of course not," she said primly. "Snape already had this on his storage. We're lucky he did, these are way more complex than they look. It takes about three months to make a batch of them."

"If he already had them, then what the fuck have you lot been doing for the past two hours!? And what will that even do!? Will it somehow transport us back in time so that I don't get involved in this mess?"

"Watch your tone," Pansy snapped. "I get that the situation has you on edge, but, frankly, I don't give a shit."

Blaise flinched at the reprimand but continued to stare expectantly at Pansy.

"Consider these potions as an alternative to obliviation. It doesn't remove a memory, per se, however, it forever tarnishes it, clouding it so that the victim has no accurate recollection of it. It's even foolproof against Legillimency, Veritaserum, and pretty much any other method available. This fixes all your problems, all of you will be free to go as soon as we force them to drink this up. No one will be able to place you at the scene."

"Except you," Blaise said carefully, looking between Harry, Pansy, and Theo.

"Well, we have to have assurances you won't just turn on us the moment you're scott free, don't we." Pansy smiled.

"But if Snape already had this made, then what is he doing?"

"He's making sure Potter doesn't get caught, either. The potions only go so far, Harry magical signature was imprinted upon the knife the moment he used it on Montague. The Aurors find it, and Potter's fucked."

"I'm sure Snape would love that," Harry said darkly.

"Perhaps," Pansy shrugged. "But he's doing his part, isn't he? Just like I told you he would."

"Yeah, yeah, can you wait until we make sure the Aurors don't deliver me to the dementors before you go on your I told you so tirade?"

"Fine," she pouted.

"What is Snape's plan with the knife?" Draco asked, his voice edged with curiosity.

"He's going to remove Harry's magical signature," she said as if it was obvious. "Oh, and something else. Which reminds me - Incarcerous!"

Thick metal chains were expelled from Pansy's wand, shooting across the room before striking Draco, trapping him on the couch.

"What the hell, Parkinson!?" He screeched. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"Did you think I had forgotten what side you were on, Draco? You don't belong here with us," she nodded behind her. "Your place is with them."

"I helped you-"

"You were only helping yourself!" She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Draco. You're smart. Surely, you didn't think we'd just accept you on our side out of the goodness of our heart. Not after the shit you pulled."

"So what? You're going to pile me up with the rest of them? Make me forget about tonight?"

"Oh, no, I have other plans for you." She said darkly. "Snape said I could choose, and since this started because of you, it seems fitting it ends with you."

Draco's eyes widened as the realisation that had just hit Harry a few seconds ago hit him.

"No, please, you can't do this. Please, I'll do anything! Theo, we're friends."

"Pansy…"

"No, Theo." She snapped. "Draco is the one that stunned Harry and gave Montague access to the fifth-year dormitory, If he hadn't, all of this might've been avoided."

"I know, but… feeding him to the dementors?" His voice was strained, as if trying to contain himself. "We can't do that. Not even to Malfoy."

"He would do the same to us in a heartbeat, you know he would! Besides, Snape's plan requires a scapegoat. Without one, it doesn't work."

"You're just as insane as Potter here!" Blaise snapped.

"Oh, please. You wanted to throw Harry to the wolves only a few hours ago! If it was your life on the line, you wouldn't hesitate, either."

"Exactly, and it isn't. I'm surprised how far you're willing to go to save someone else's life."

"I'd be a shitty friend if I let him die," Pansy said evasively.

"It's Harry's life." Theo said firmly, looking pleadingly at him. "He should be the one to decide."

Pansy looked between Theo and Harry, her outrage mounting, before she threw her arms in the air. "Gah! Fine."

The immediate quiet that followed made Theo fidget and Blaise looked more resign, but Harry didn't focus on them. His mind began replaying his worst memories with Draco. All the times he bullied him in his first year. The constant belittlement and snide remarks he'd made about him. Him siding with Montagu and his whole attitude over the past month. How he chased him all the way down into their dormitory and stunned him before giving him to Montague.

"Harry! Don't do this, please! I'll do anything, I'll be your slave for life, I swear. You need me!"

"Need you?" Harry asked in disbelief, inching closer towards Malfoy, his voice deadly quiet.

"You have no idea what you've started, don't you?" Draco asked quickly, frantically. "Montague just lost control of the house after years of being the one in charge. All his rivals are famished, and you've just served them a banquet. And not just inside Slytherin, with the Ministry forcing itself onto Hogwarts and the Dark Lord's return, factions will be made. A war inside Hogwarts is inevitable, and it won't stay contained to just the students for long. There will be chaos, Montague was just the first, people will die, and you'll need every ally you can get - I can see it! I'm smart like that!"

Harry lunged at the boy, gripping his shirt tightly as he pulled him slightly. "You weren't smart enough to pick me over Montague." He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. The anger he'd had against Malfoy, one he'd boxed away the moment they began trying to find a way to evade the Aurors, was fully controlling his body now as he had the boy's life in his hands. "Montague could've killed me tonight! God knows what he would've done if Theo and Blaise hadn't come down."

"I swear I didn't know! I swear I didn't think he'd go that far, please, you have to believe me!"

"I do!" He snarled. "I just don't care."

Which is why you'll always lose.

Montague's words echoed in his mind, taunting him. He tightened his grip on Malfoy's shirt, and the fear in the boy's eyes doubled. His hands were vibrating, the overwhelming anger to hurt Malfoy, make him pay for the situation he'd put him in, was too strong to control. Right now, he wasn't thinking clearly. He wanted to hurt, punish, destroy the boy, just like he'd destroyed Montague.

How easy it would be to just… snap. Give everyone in the castle a taste of that blazing rage that's burning you inside. And what will happen to all of us when you finally do?

She was right. He didn't want to hold on to it anymore. He wanted to snap, wanted to use Malfoy as an example, just like he'd used Montague.

That's not me, and don't ever assume otherwise.

The words cut through him like a bullet, and, for a moment, the fog that was clouding his mind evaporated - almost as if he was seeing himself from someone else's eyes. His hands were fully shaking now, he could feel a tear of rage slowly dripping out of his eye, his head exploding as he couldn't hold it anymore.

He let go of the boy, placing his hands on both shoulders before letting out a blood-curdling, primal scream, that felt as if it came from his very soul. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he fell to the ground on his knees and began panting.

He could still feel the overwhelming anger inside him, pushing him to agree with Pansy and deliver Draco to the dementors. But he forced his body to restrain itself, forced himself to use his brain, overcome his anger as he thought of the solution. The very action was painful. His chance at getting revenge, covering up his attack by framing one of his other biggest enemies since he entered the Wizarding World.

The silence extended itself, and it took almost a minute before he could finally think straight. Malfoy as an ally could be useful, and it could prove problematic if he was the one framed, as it would involve another powerful, pure-blood family - one with direct ties to the Minister. With the Montagues already hating him, he couldn't afford to make any more enemies. And Malfoy was right, he was smart, and he needed all the help he could get. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Malfoy's prediction would come true, and when it did. He wanted to avoid being the same lone-wolf idiot who acted on instinct rather than intellect.

That had been precisely what had brought him into this situation. There had to be a better candidate to frame for the attack.

Harry stood up, avoiding everyone else's eyes as he stared directly at Malfoy.

"You… owe me."

The Infirmary

6:30 p.m.

The search of Snape's classrooms and office hadn't gone as Rufus had hoped for. When the medical diagnostics on every victim had shown an unknown substance in their systems, he was sure he had his man. Something as complex and unknown as the substances that were used on the students had to come from Snape - perhaps the man didn't think they would show in the diagnostics. It seemed like an experimental potion, after all.

However, that wasn't the case. He had every available Auror in the castle help with the search, but they came up with nothing. The Potions classrooms were as innocuous as they had been back when he was a student at Hogwarts and Snape's office came out empty, even after countless magical revealing enchantments and physical searches. The only notable things had been found were the rotating library fixed with a permanent sticking charm, and the dozen or so cauldrons of potions Snape was making to help the Matron with her stores. It didn't need to be said that those being the most remarkable things found in their search was more infuriating than helpful.

Hitting that dead end halted the investigation completely. They had explored every avenue and had found nothing. The students interviews hadn't scared any students into snitching, nor found any valuable information. Forensics of the scene didn't leave a shred of evidence, magical or physical, of the perpetrators. Exploring the Potions Master route hadn't paid off. And none of the victims were speaking anything coherent about the attack or their attackers.

Time went on with nothing to do but go about the evidence in his mind, and as time passed, there was only one truth in Rufus mind. Harry Potter was behind these attacks. He had motives, plenty of Slytherins had revealed the animosity between the two of them, specially during this past month. He had means, as an excellent dueller and one well versed with the subject of Defence, he could've been the one to attack these students. And as someone who sleeps in the same house as Montague, he had opportunity.

But there was no evidence. Nothing to show for his theories about Harry Potter. And Montague, as one of the most well-known Slytherins, could have plenty of enemies that also met the criteria used for Potter. But there was something about the kid… he couldn't name it, couldn't place it. It was in his eyes, there was a darkness to them, something he'd seen in war veterans and grizzled Aurors, never in a teenage kid. There was something unnerving about them, something that screamed his guilt in these attacks.

There was also the question. The final question he had asked the boy. He was sure he was lying, sure there was something he was hiding from him. Throughout the entire interview, Rufus hadn't garnered a hint of deceit in his words, until that last question. It never left his mind, the boy's expression, the slight hitch to his voice. He'd put up his Aurors to watch the kid, but they came out empty. He stayed to himself, reading book after book, as he ignored the rest of his classmates.

All the warnings in his gut pointed to Potter, but none of the evidence he encountered gave him anything solid. It was frustrating, infuriating even. The minutes he stared at his evidence board felt like hours, trying to connect anything to Potter, when there wasn't anything he could grasp on to.

Just as he was about to give up, call it a night and going back to Hogsmeade where they could go back to the drawing board and rethink their approach before returning tomorrow, he received a floo call from the infirmary. Runcorn, Proudfoot, and Savage had finished with their diagnostics and had their report ready.

Thankfully, the Infirmary wasn't far from the abandoned classroom where Rufus had set up camp. Completely disregarding any sense of decor, Scrimgeour pushed both doors opened harshly, stepping inside as quickly as possible, spotting his three Aurors sitting right beside the unconscious form of Graham Montague.

"Have you figured out what curse was used?"

"Not a curse," Runcorn said gruffly. "We went over everything, no curse matches these injuries. Based on this, I'd have to say this was a cursed object, most likely a weapon like a knife, dagger, or sword."

"Perfect," Rufus breathed out. "If it was a weapon, it has to still be inside the castle, or at the very least the grounds. There have been no owls exchanged, and no student has left the Great Hall or common rooms without being escorted by an Auror. We got the son of a bitch!" He laughed, the fire inside him lit once more. "Savage! Contact Madam Bones, ask for warrants to search the student's dormitories, common rooms, and personal belongings. We'll scour over every creak and corner of the castle until we find this blade-

A loud siren all around them cut him off as Montague's body began convulsing violently. Savage, Runcorn, and Proudfoot were stunned in place, but Rufus acted quickly. Sprinting towards the boy's side, he began casting diagnosis charms on him, trying to find what was wrong with him as fast as he could. The problem became apparent quickly, his cursed injuries had expanded too much, reaching his brain and depleting the boy's magical core. His magic wasn't healing his body anymore, causing the injury to worsen by the second.

"Proudfoot! Call the Matron!"

"There's no need," a stern voice answered as Rufus was pushed aside.

He waited, looking expectantly at the Matron as she went through her own diagnosis spells. A few seconds passed, and as time dragged on without any action from her, Rufus snapped. "Do something!"

"I can't…" she said, her voice coming out rough. "The injury's spreading too fast without the boy's magical core to keep it at bay. There's nothing we can do."

"We can't just let him die!" He shouted frantically.

She turned to him, tears stinging at her eyes. "There's nothing we can do."

And just then, Graham's body stopped moving, laying stiffly against the bed. Tears of blood dripping from his face, the eyes fully covered by the large carved injury. Gradually, the body began slumping into the cushions and the surrounding sirens ceased.

"Sir…" Savage broke the silence.

"Contact Madam Bones. Ask for those warrants… NOW." Savage sprinted away as Rufus turned towards the other Aurors. "This just became a murder investigation. We're not letting the son of a bitch that did this to get away. The moment we get those warrants, we're heading towards the Slytherin Common Room, starting with the fifth-year male dormitories."

That's it for this chapter! Only one more to go before we're done with this arc, which, even though I've enjoyed the pleasure of doing an experiment like this one, is something I'm looking forward to! So many more plans I have, so much I want to write! But we'll get there, all in due time.

Next chapter the Slytherins plan will be revealed, and we'll see if Harry actually manages to get away with murder ;)

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)

I've decided to open my own discord server where I'm going to be active and will include the opportunity to get the chapters earlier! Please, feel free to join using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT