Chapter Sixty Three

Harry examined Luna closely. The clues she'd given him were only worthwhile if she was worthwhile. Was she a fraud? Was she a Seer? Could she talk to the dead?

Somebody believed in her. She'd realized something as she lied awake or maybe Filch had told her something. Maybe magic itself had revealed something to her.

All that glitters is not gold.

Was it a metaphor or literal? Everyone in the hall was covered in gold glitter — it wasn't exactly helpful.

The clues ran through his mind, everything he'd found.

Red hair on Filch's chest.

Black powder in the stone tiles of the murder scene. On Ginny's fingers this very morning.

A split red balloon in Filch's office.

"We need to go to Dumbledore." Lisa Turpin announced.

"I need to go home, more like." Lavender shivered. "I'm not sticking around for him to do me in."

"What makes you think it's a him?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, please. It's always a him." Lavender rolled her eyes. "Girls have more empathy."

Seamus scoffed. "Lass, you once told me you'd cut my dick off 'cos I broke one of your nails."

"I'd just had them done!"

"You never touch a man's dick without consent!"

"That's true." Dean added.

"Stop talking, everyone." Harry growled. The floating candles trembled as his magic boiled. "Nobody leaves the Hall, not yet."

Parvati shifted from foot to foot, biting her lip. "Can we still go to the bathroom? I'm dying."

"Not yet." He dismissed. "You can hold it."

"I drank a whole pitcher of pumpkin juice!"

"Not yet!" He snapped. "Mione, Ron." He gestured them over to the corner of the hall.

"Any ideas?" He asked.

Their faces were serious.

"You uh, saw my sister's fingers, right?" Ron said uneasily.

"I still don't think it's her." Harry reassured him.

Hermione bit her lip. "I mean, she was sleeping right next to Luna. Sorry, Ron."

"That's why I still don't think it's her. She wouldn't need to use Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder — she could just reach an arm out. Nobody would have seen."

Ron clenched both fists. "Someone really wants to make us think it's Ginny."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Let's go back to the start, then. That's what they always do in the books I read. Begin at the beginning and make a timeline."

Ron shrugged. "I mean, we heard Romilda scream—"

"No, like, the very start."

"The start of breakfast," Harry said slowly. "Filch gives a speech, which he never does—"

"He's talking about all the dangerous stuff he's confiscated—" Ron remembered. "Cursed stuff. Quidditch stuff."

"Maybe someone wants what he's advertising." Hermione pointed out. "And they realize that while he's in the Great Hall, his office is empty."

"Filch sat down to eat breakfast — I remember thinking that was weird, 'cos he never does." Ron said.

Harry nodded. "And then Slughorn comes in mid-meal. Makes a big speech."

"And a big glitter splash!" Ron said, picking one of the golden glitter glints from his shoulder. "Filch would have been furious—"

"He stomps out, cursing under his breath." Hermione hummed.

Harry's pulse quickened. "He goes to fetch his cleaning supplies. Back to his office—"

"—and when he gets there, he finds someone snooping—" Ron interjected.

"—he chases them but the thief can't be caught with what they have, so they kill Filch!"

Hermione nodded breathlessly. "They rip up the painting so Iris Pius can't tattle and then, to cover themselves, they paint those words on the wall."

"Trying to point the finger at Ginny." Ron said darkly.

"It could still be her," Hermione said, holding her hands up. "We have to be unbiased. At this point, Ginny is out of the hall, one of the only ones." Hermione paused. "We don't know if Filch caught the thief as soon as he got back to the office or…"

"Filch died at some point between Slughorn arriving and us finding Vane screaming. Ginny would have had time to do it." Harry admitted.

"Would she?" Ron crossed his arms. "We left the hall pretty soon after she did."

"No, we didn't." Hermione snapped her fingers. "We got slowed down by Peeves throwing water balloons, remember?"

"Ohhh," Harry and Ron chorused, looking at each other.

"We found a split red balloon in Filch's office." Harry told Hermione. "I forgot Peeves was throwing them."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I bet Peeves used Filch's office to fill his balloons up!"

"Right," Harry nodded. "Because Filch has his own water tap just for Mrs Norris."

Ron looked between them, confused. "So Peeves is the killer?"

"No, moron." Harry grinned. "But he might have seen something if he was in there."

Peeves wasn't in the Great Hall but Nearly Headless Nick was, entertaining the first years, doing his famous reenactment of his botched beheading.

"Harry Potter!" Nick cried as they approached. He turned to the first years. "Didn't I tell you that Harry and I are friendly? Harry came to my death-day party, even!" Nick said in his airy, delicate tone.

"Really?" Ellie Branstone said doubtfully.

Harry had quite forgotten that awful party. "So I did. Sir Nick's quite a hero, you know."

The first years looked dubiously at the ghost, who looked more fabulous than fearless in his breeches, doublet and extravagantly plumed hat.

"Oh, stop it," Nick waved his hand coyly.

Harry smiled thinly. "Sir Nicholas saved Justin Finch-Fletchley's life by standing bravely between him and a basilisk, stopping Justin from looking directly in the basilisk's eyes."

"Wow!"

"Seriously?"

"A real basilisk?"

"Just another day in the life." Nick bowed, taking his hat off. "How can I assist, Harry? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington is always at your service."

"I need to find Peeves, Sir Nick."

The ghost choked suddenly. "That terrible rascal! Whatever for!" He looked hastily at the young children. "Not that I can't handle him, of course. I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life!"

"Certainly not." Harry agreed. "We think Peeves might have seen something. Can you get him for us?"

Nick chewed on his lip. "He's utterly uncivilized, you know. Can't see a plate of food without throwing it. I can't guarantee he'll come."

"I know, but still—"

"Even I, respected as I am, with the noble blood running through my veins, cannot command his respect—"

"Yes," Harry cut him off. "But it is important and I'd be very grateful." He caught young Ellie's eye. "We'd all be grateful, wouldn't we?"

"Oh, yes!" She caught on quick. "We can't solve a murder without Sir Nick!"

Nick puffed up, hands on his hips. "Well, very well, Sir Nicholas is on the task. Come here, Peeves, you rapscallion!" He glided through the wall and vanished.

It took a few minutes but when he returned, Peeves was soon behind him.

"Potter!" Peeves shouted with delight, his bell-covered hat jangling. "Oh, Potter, you rotter, You're killing off students, you think it's good fun!"

"Peeves, listen to me, it's important—"

Peeves flew above them, not listening as he belted his song. "Oh, Potter's back with his killing spree, taking out Filchie and Loony, one, two, who'll be three?"

Harry grimaced — he didn't have time for this. He didn't know a way to keep Peeves in line, but Tom had. A spell he hadn't performed before. Swish down, flick up, imagining in his mind that Peeves was a real body, not a ghost.

Peeves froze in mid-air, suspended above them — his legs swinging uselessly.

"Peeves," Harry growled. "We know you were in Filch's office filling up your water balloons. We want to know what you saw — if you saw someone snooping, he'd be the real killer."

The ghost looked down airily. "Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice.

Ron started. "Don't—"

"Please." Harry said.

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please!"

"Peeves," Harry took a deep breath. "If I know a spell to freeze you, I know a spell to hurt you."

Peeves looked down at him doubtfully. "Peevsie sposes Potty is owed a thank you for removing Umbridge."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thank you, Peeves."

"I'll give it in song, ha haaa! A little fun for the ickle firsties!"

"I…if you must."

Peeves held his hand to his forehead dramatically, enjoying the attention from the entire Great Hall. "Twas a dark and stormy night when Peevsie happened upon some mischief, oh, what a sight!"

"It was a sunny morning." Ron muttered.

Ellie cheered along with her fellow first years.

Peeves gasped and pointed in the distance. "Suddenly he sees, a Quidditch bully sneaking, what's he seek?" The ghost twirled in the air. "Could it be Filch's treasures, oh so unique?!"

"A Quidditch bully?" Hermione echoed.

Peeves swooped down and grabbed Flint's nose. "Got your conk!" He cackled.

"It was Flint you saw?" Harry said carefully.

"You can't trust Peeves—" Flint rolled his eyes, holding his sore nose.

Peevsie continued in his annoying sing-song. "He speaks of trust after stealing treasures, causing such a fuss! Now Filch lies so still," He put a finger to his jaw. "Did Flinty cause a bloody spill?"

All eyes turned to Flint.

"It's not true!" Flint snapped, clenching his fists.

"Now I think about it, I think you did leave the Hall early." Daphne said slowly.

"Stop stirring trouble, you fucking bitch." Flint's nostrils flared.

"You were having a heated conversation with Crabbe and Goyle." Harry remembered. "I thought you were trying to be the new Malfoy, giving them orders."

Crabbe looked at the floor. Goyle's face was red.

The other Slytherin students edged away from Flint.

"It a-ain't like, I mean, you don't understand." He sputtered. The large boy was breathing heavily.

"You really didn't want Luna speaking to the dead." Ellie observed bravely.

"That's true!" Parvati said excitedly.

"Everyone knows Flint'll do anything to win at Quidditch." Angelina noted coldly.

Peeves giggled maniacally, clapping his hands together. "Marcus Flint in a murderous stint! Potty won't stop now he's on the prowl!"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Flint stomped his feet. "Listen, just fuckin' listen—"

"There are kids here," Susan hissed.

"I don't give a fuck." Flint wiped his sweaty brow. "Look, okay, alright, was I there? Yes, I went to Flint's office, I was trying to get some of them things Filch said he'd confiscated." He cupped the back of his neck. "Wanted to give our a team an edge, alright!"

"Classic Flint." Alicia Spinnet said darkly.

"I try and get Crabbe and Goyle to go cos I'm big and people notice when I leave." Flint gave the two trolls a dark look. "But they don't wanna, so I think, fuck it! I went there—"

"And things got out of control when Filch caught you and you killed him—" Ron pressed.

"I didn't fuckin' kill the caretaker!" Flint insisted. "I saw him chasing after someone, screaming something about an amulet. I think to myself, Flinty, now's the time, he's distracted. But the cabinet's half empty so I take what I can and I get the hell outta there." He pinched the bridge of his nose hard. "Next thing I know, the creepy fuck is dead and people are asking questions, so I just keep my mouth shut!"

The boy stared straight at Harry with pleading eyes. "But I didn't kill Filch and I didn't do nothing to Looney - uh, Luna." He amended hastily.

"An honest liar." Tom murmured in Harry's mind. Harry's Legilimency flickered against Flint's mind, enough to see the boy had Occlumency defences. Tom thought Flint was telling the truth…but there was only one way to be sure.

Harry held out his wand threateningly. But his incantation was a Patronus. A blindingly white stag emerged from his wand and cantered through the walls.

"I've sent for the Headmaster." Harry said simply. "I've told him we've got something and to get Snape's Veritaserum. He'll figure out if you're telling the truth."

To Harry's dismay, Flint looked relieved. Perhaps he really wasn't the killer.

Hogwarts' least favourite ghost wasn't convinced. Peeves's bell-hat jingled as he rubbed his hands. "Suspicion's high, my oh my, did Flinty make Filchy die?"

Katie Bell put her hand up like there was a teacher present. "Uh, Harry, now you've caught the bad guy and saved the day, can we go pee now?" She squirmed, squeezing her hands. "I really need to go."

"Me first." Parvati squeaked. "Please!"

"Go." Harry dismissed. "One at a time, though — I don't want anyone slipping out unnoticed."

"Thanks!" Katie pushed past the Prefect at the door and ran out before Parvati could.

"Bitch!" Parvati groaned.

"Language — kids are still here." Hannah said, exasperated. "Don't you guys listen to Susie?"

Susan looked at her friend with a sneer — Hannah hardly looked like she should be around children, given that her uniform looked like it was from her first year.

Harry kept his eye on the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Flint was a thug, no doubt, with teeth so gapped they looked like cell bars and a nose that had been broken so many times it bent three different ways. He was capable of nastiness, like when he and Malfoy and Crabbe had tried to ambush him after being paid off by Tracey.

But was he a killer?

"Amazing what boys will do for Quidditch." Hermione said archly.

"I bet he knew he couldn't win once I joined the team." Ron boxed Harry's arm excitedly. "Alicia's right, you know — everyone knows Flint will do anything to win a Quidditch match."

Harry grimaced. "If Flint steals Filch's Quidditch stuff and gets caught, he gets detention for a week or a month, right? He doesn't need to kill for it."

Hermione's face flickered. "But if he gets caught with something that Filch thinks is a Quidditch artifact but another teacher—"

"A teacher that isn't a Squib—" Harry added.

"—realizes is something way more dangerous." Hermione worried. "Something deadly.

"Then maybe Flint would kill to protect himself from getting thrown in person or expelled." Harry finished. He sighed. "I don't like it. But Dumbledore will clear things up."

The Great Hall doors swung open. Dumbledore led a group of teachers. The old man's eyes found Harry's immediately and then Luna, who lay on the floor.

"Petrified in the night." Harry said quietly.

"You should have sent for me." The Headmaster said sternly.

"I wanted time to ask some questions." Harry explained simply. He gestured to Flint, who was standing very much alone. "Peeves says Flint was snooping in Filch's office moments before Filch was found dead. Can you get some Veritaserum?"

Dumbledore peered at the Slytherin boy and then back at Harry. "You shouldn't have been investigating, my boy. I only wanted you to protect the students."

Harry shrugged. "I have things under control—"

A terrible scream split through the Hall. Parvati rose into the air, her arms outstretched as though she wanted to fly. She screamed and screamed, a noise so horrifying that a cold rushing down Harry's spine.

"Sis!" Padma cried, seizing her ankles, trying to tug her down to the ground. Ron rushed forward to wrestle her down but Parvati thrashed and shrieked, her gaze wild.

"Stupefy!" Madam Pomfrey stepped forward after her red stunner silenced the screams. She pushed Ron and Padma out of the way. "Give me space, let me work!" Pomfrey snapped.

Harry watched with growing frustration. Flint was standing alone with all eyes on him — he couldn't have done this.

And how? No curse, no hex.

"W-what's wrong with her?" Padma wailed as Flitwick held her back from her sister. Foam was gurgling from Parvati's open mouth.

"It's a curse, a bad one." Poppy said blackly, her wand waving wildly.

"Harry, d-do something!" Padma begged.

Harry swallowed rapidly, something distasteful in the back of his mouth. It was only a couple of days ago that he'd been in the Patil twin's bedroom, getting a sultry dance and a sexy massage.

The giggling girls so eager to become women, arguing with each other then emboldening their twin to very naughty things.

Harry thought suddenly of something that Parvati had said, that night.

And suddenly, he knew how it was done. The killer had made their mistake.

"Everyone, stop!" Harry declared loudly.

"Harry, we need to get the children out of here—" Dumbledore started.

"No!" He jabbed his wand and a wooden table zoomed in front of him, screeching against the floor. He stepped onto it before it had even stopped. "Everyone, sort yourself into Houses. One House in each corner, form lines."

"My boy—"

"Professor," Harry's eyebrows drew together. "I have this. Trust me."

Dumbledore relented.

The students were more reluctant.

"Come on, gang." Seamus said with false cheer. "For Parvati. You know Harry's about to crack this case."

"It's hero time." Ron said, but the joke fell flat.

"Hufflepuffs, form up." Susan declared after a long glance at Harry.

"Tell me you haven't solved it before a Ravenclaw." Cho muttered, but she too led her House into lines by the corner.

"Trolls at the back, beauties in front." Daphne taunted as she forcefully pushed Crabbe and Goyle out of the way.

In no time, the four House stood in each corner of the Great Hall. Harry didn't care about three, it was Slytherin he wanted.

He stalked between the lines of silver and green. Daphne preened as he passed, pushing out her chest. "I think I could be the bad girl." She murmured.

"Fumus. Massatus." Harry cast. A thick cloud of smoke was given volume by his second spell, until all the Slytherins were coughing.

"This is rather irregular, my boy." Dumbledore chided.

Hidden by the smoke, Harry said nothing. He swept past each of his suspects, brushing past them.

Flint's breath was panicked. Crabbe was stiffer than a corpse. Goyle was swearing like a sailor. Pucey cursed him out. Zabini dry-heaved. Pansy threw her head back 'accidentally' as he walked behind her.

When the cloud dissipated, Harry was no longer there. He stood in the centre of the hall by a disapproving Dumbledore.

"Centre of attention, just as you like it." Mei jabbed.

"Lord Voldemort." Harry said simply.

Lavender shrieked.

"Not him again." Ron groaned. "He can't have possessed Flint, there's no hair or turban to hide him in."

"Ron!" Hermione hip-bumped him hard.

"Lord Voldemort wants Hogwarts to close down, so our defense is split. So the Headmaster is alone, without the castle's wands to protect him. So that I, too, am targetable." Harry announced loudly.

The student body shifted uncomfortably.

"Did the Dark Lord hate caretakers?" Roger said derisively. "Stop attention seeking, Potter."

Harry ignored him. "He gifts an amulet to a pawn of his, as a mission, as a test, to spread fear in Hogwarts far and wide. An amulet that carries a curse so terrible that wearing it will kill you."

Padma sobbed loudly. "Is-is that what—?"

"She'll live, if you let me work!" Poppy said, wiping sweat from her brow. "Minerva, give me a hand here!"

"Only Filch has been unleashed since the twins left. He snatches your bag as you go to lessons and empties it, searching for contrabrand." Harry announced.

"He took my lipstick because he thought it was a switchblade." Cho rolled her eyes.

"And my umbrella because 'the handle was too sharp'." Lee Jordan complained.

Harry nodded. "He takes the killer's amulet, unknowing of the curse it contained. He thinks its just a common mind-focusing amulet, like the kind that gets circulated around exam time."

He paused, realizing he had the students on tenterhooks. "The killer wants it back, but how? Filch or Mrs Norris are always in the office. He tries once but the cat catches him. Filch covers his office in a layer of sand to catch the thief next time."

Harry looked around the hall. "Then, Filch makes his mistake. He gives a speech bragging about his finds and then, unusually, he sits down for his meal with the rest of the faculty. The killer realizes they have a whole mealtime to grab their amulet back. They slip out of the Hall as soon as they can."

The Great Hall held their breath. Harry snapped his fingers. "Only Professor Slughorn ruins everything by arriving late, an arrival that the killer cannot expect, because only I and the Headmaster knew about it. He rolls the ball that ends with Filch dead."

"Me?" The plump teacher said, bewildered. "How could I?"

"You covered the hall in golden glitter, wanting to make a big impression." Harry picked a speck of it from his shoulder. "Filch is angry — nobody respects his work. They just make a mess and don't care how it gets cleaned up. He stomps back to his office and catches the killer in the act."

"Merlin, I didn't—I couldn't." Slughorn looked nauseous. "This is why I didn't want to come back!"

"The killer can't be caught with the amulet, for anyone that isn't Filch will know that this is no toy. Besides, the Dark Lord's asked him to spread fear and why not start straight away? He throws up Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and as Filch chases him round the corner, he kills him in the cloud of shadow. He rips up the painting that could give him away.

"What about the writing on the wall?" Millicent Bulstrode called, frowning. "Can't it be the Heir from our second year?"

"That's what they want us to think." Harry said easily. "Anything to spread panic, to make the cover of the Prophet." Harry paced back and forth, envisioning the whole timeline in his head. "The killer wants to slip back into the crowd leaving the Great Hall before anyone notices, but they realize there's a big problem."

Hermione breathed out, eyes wide in realization. "The glitter!"

"Yes." Harry nodded at her appreciatively. "Every single person is covered in glitter, except the killer. They would stick out like a sore thumb, so they cast it on themselves. It's a silly little charm, but how often do any of us cast it? Would you get it right if you had only a few seconds, when you've got panic in your veins?"

"They got it wrong?" Katie asked breathlessly.

"They got it wrong." Harry tapped his wand on the speck of glitter in his palm. "Engorgio!" The glitter grew large and kept growing, until it was as big as a Quaffle.

"It's…it's yellow." Ron said, dumbfounded.

Harry smirked. "All that glitters is not gold." He shook his head in amazement. "I don't know how Luna knew, or if she knew anything at all, but she had the message in her head and she wrote it down. I found it in her hand this morning."

"Oh!" Lavender shrieked, bouncing up and down. She turned as if to share her excitement with Parvati, and then realized the girl wasn't there. More somberly, she added. "She said something like that when the glitter came down — she's a Seer, like Professor Trelawney!"

Hermione coughed loudly.

"But who does the glitter belong to?" Ernie said, confused.

"We're almost there." Harry promised. "The killer slips into the crowd that stumbles upon Filch's body, as if they were with us the whole time. They are one of the few that know what Lucius Malfoy told the Dark Lord, that little Ginny Weasley was possessed by a remnant of his spirit in her first year, that she opened the Chamber."

The Great Hall gasped, all eyes turning to the petite redhead, who looked down, nauseous.

"It wasn't her fault." Harry added quickly. "Malfoy gave her a cursed object and she was only a child."

"Oh Merlin, Gin!" Lavender squealed, hugging Ginny.

"Ginny…you never said anything." Katie said, embracing her from the other side.

"Now, of course, Ginny is completely fine and even back then, she assisted me in slaying the basilisk and the Dark Lord's spirit." Harry lied. "But the killer wants to implicate her again. Or maybe they just take the opportunity — they stand behind her in the crowd in front of Filch's body. They take a single hair from her shoulder and they banish it at his corpse."

The line of Slytherins looked at each other warily, having wordless conversations with their glances.

Harry smiled thinly. "The killer has gotten away with it. Or so they think, until it comes to the evening and Luna Lovegood begins speaking to the dead. Speaking things that she could not know!"

"Merlin." Cho covered her mouth with both hands. "Luna - Luna really could speak to Filch. Luna said that Filch never liked the dark — because of the Instant Darkness Powder!"

Harry nodded slowly. "Perhaps." He tapped his wand slowly onto his palm. "Or perhaps he said it because Filch was, as Dean always tells me, a racist."

His wand stabbed out. Without a spell, without any magic, it parted the line of Slytherin students. Until his wand's tip pointed at the killer.

Blaise Zabini. The boy looked back at him, bewildered.

"He never liked the dark…boy." Harry repeated. "Dean interrupted her flow, but the next word Luna said, that Filch said, was boy."

Blaise scoffed, looking at his Housemates for support. "Are you serious right now? We're going off the fantasies of that crackpot girl?"

"Crackpot, jackpot, Potty's got his man, don't stop." Peeves sang above.

"So Filch — I mean Luna — wasn't pointing at me when he said he never liked me?" Ron asked. "But he said it…" He trailed off, realizing something.

"Oh, fuck." Daphne said loudly.

"Luna knew." Hermione murmured.

Harry smiled at his old friend. "It runs in the family. That's what Filch said through Luna's mouth, pointing at Blaise who was sitting next to you, Ron. Blaise's mother, the famously beautiful witch who's been widowed seven times, her wealthy husband dying under strange circumstances every time."

"My goodness!" Slughorn held his large belly. "I mean, we've all heard the stories about Valentina but—"

"So did Filch." Harry walked closer to Blaise, examining him. To the boy's credit, there was not a drop of sweat. "Like mother, like son."

Blaise sneered. "You actually believe Luna — you really think that crazy bitch knows anything?"

Harry smiled tightly. "I think you did. When she pointed at you, when she spoke of those things. You alone knew she wasn't pointing at Ron. You couldn't risk her having another séance with Filch but you couldn't kill her, either."

"How could I have done it?" Blaise snapped, his nostrils flaring. "I wasn't even near her, everybody would have seen me—"

"Unless you used more of the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." Harry interrupted. "You waited until everyone was asleep and then you threw the powder up, so it was black enough that the moonlight couldn't penetrate. You stepped over the sleeping bags and you did what? A potion? A spell? Something quiet. It was enough to petrify her, because by the time we unpetrify her, it'd be too late for Hogwarts."

Blaise flinched as Harry reached out and swiped the glitter from his shoulder. Harry engorged it and held out more of the yellow glitter.

The boy snarled at him. "Fanciful storytelling, Potter, but that ain't evidence — that's fucking glitter. What about the Weasley girl? She's done it before!"

Harry shook his head. "You wanted me to think that, didn't you? Ginny was right next to Luna — I bet you thought you were brilliant, when you smudged the Peruvian powder on her fingers while she slept."

"Come on!" Blaise looked again for his Housemates to support him, but none would meet his eyes. "What about Flint? He was there with Filch!"

"Fuck you, Zabini!"

Harry smiled at the boy. The first bead of sweat had formed on his brow. "It was Flint that gave me the evidence, actually. He said he crept in as Filch chased after you, screaming something about an amulet."

"How the fuck is that evidence? Headmaster, are you letting this attention seeker run your school now?" Blaise snarled.

Dumbledore, however, looked very interested. "How was that a revelation, Harry?"

"Because once Flint said that, Zabini knew he was in trouble. He had the amulet on his possession and now everyone knew Filch was after an amulet thief." Harry pointed at Blaise, his face cold. "You had to get rid of it before Dumbledore arrived with Veritaserum because after Flint was verified as innocent, who knew where the hands would start pointing?"

Harry tapped his fingers on his palm in repeated bursts. "Get rid of the evidence. Get rid of the evidence. It was the only thought in your head, wasn't it? But how? Nobody was allowed to leave the Great Hall."

"Shit." Katie Bell said into the silence, catching on.

Harry smiled humorlessly. "Until Katie asked to go to the bathroom. You didn't catch her in time, but Parvati was next and desperate. It was an Imperius, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about—"

"Take this necklace, you told her in her mind. Hide it in your panties and stash it in the bathroom." Harry smirked. "Your big mistake — the mistake you couldn't have known you were making."

He could see the questions in Blaise's eyes because even though his voice professed innocence, his eyes were desperate to know how. How was I caught? The question every killer was desperate to find out.

Harry pointed to Parvati, his eyes not leaving Blaise's. "Padma, what was Blaise's mistake?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she glared pure hatred. "Parvati doesn't wear panties."

"Parvati doesn't wear panties." Harry echoed, raising his eyebrow, his smile cocky. "Imperiused, she goes to slip the necklace down her skirt, but there's nothing but flesh. The necklace touches skin, it activates and she screams."

Blaise seethed, a vein on his neck throbbing.

"While we're looking at Flint or Dumbledore, you're looking at her. You see the curse unravel before anyone else does, before she even screams." Harry narrated. "She drops the amulet between her legs and you panic. You summon it before anyone can find the evidence."

Harry watched the lump in Blaise's throat form. Harry didn't need his wand.

He conjured a red handkerchief wandlessly and covered his hand with it. The boy was shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead. Without a word, he reached into Blaise's pocket.

And pulled out a gleaming opal amulet.

The Hall resounded with a sharp intake of breath.

"Of course," Harry murmured. "It's not even gold."

"Harry fucking Potter." Ron said in admiration.

"You almost got away with it." Harry said gently. "But you were standing too close to her when Parvati screamed. Even then, I wasn't sure until I saw the glitter on your shoulder and realized what Luna meant."

Blaise bowed his head, his fists clenched. His chest heaved with sheer emotion, magic pouring from him in waves. "I…"

"It's okay." Harry said softly. "It's over."

"I'll kill you!" Blaise roared, snatching the wand from his wrist-holster, the tip lighting green.

Harry smirked and rabbit-jabbed a fist forward.

CRUNCH! Blaise's nose broke. When he recovered, he had a wand in his face.

Hundreds of wands in his face.

Tears ran down Padma's face on Harry's left, her wand almost up Blaise's nose. "Try it, I dare you!" She growled.

Ron was on Harry's right, somehow, as he always was. His right-hand man, grinning away. "You just got done by Detectives Potter and Weasley."

Blaise sullenly dropped his wand.

Harry whistled, feeling rather smug. Another of the Dark Lord's little plans solved. Dumbledore would keep his position and the castle would stay open.

It wasn't quite the adventures of his years past and certainly not the mischief his father had made. But, he admitted to himself, it did hold a certain satisfaction.

Harry bumped Ron's shoulder. "Mischief managed."

###

The student body took some time to disperse out of the Great Hall. First, Dumbledore had to call the Minister and some Aurors — the old man took great pleasure in informing them how the students had come together to find and catch Blaise.

Scrimgeour had taken Zabini away and had assured them that he would be securely imprisoned. That remained to be seen, but Harry didn't have a better solution, short of separating the boy's head from his neck.

It was only when everyone was absolutely certain there was no more drama and gossip that they finally went back to their common rooms.

"Finally, a shower!" Daphne declared.

"You know it, sister!" Lavender cheered.

Daphne gave her a disdainful sneer — Lavender flinched. Clearly, the spirit of a united Hogwarts hadn't lasted long.

Harry, on the other hand, waited in the Great Hall for Padma to get an update from a tired Madam Pomfrey.

The pretty Indian girl wiped her face and gave him a limp smile as she walked over to him. "Pomfrey says she'll be okay." She gave him a tight hug. "Thank you, Harry. You're the best."

"I do try." He said modestly.

She giggled and sniffed. "Now I just need to explain to Lavender, the hound-dog that she is, how you knew Parvati doesn't wear panties."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, yeah. That."

"I'm surprised you remembered." Padma gave him a cheeky smile. "Thought we blew your brain that night."

Harry chuckled. "You did. But you had a go at her when she kicked some panties under the bed and she was like you're the only one that wears panties. And I remember thinking, finally! A way to tell them apart!"

Padma giggled, her hand on his chest. "It's a good thing I do wear them." She said, her fingers dancing up his torso.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," She whispered into his ear. "Because I am absolutely soaked for you right now." She turned and walked away, her hips sashaying.

Hermione stepped beside him, watching him watching Padma.

"You do look awfully smug, you know." She observed.

"Sorry."

"You never did tell me how it went at the Patil dinner."

As they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower and her awaiting bed, Harry told her the basics of the deal he'd made with Lord Patil, the subsequent belly-dancing and the oil massage he'd received in their room, a sultan with his harem slaves. With a little trepidation, he even told her about the thing Parvati did with her tongue.

"Gross." Hermione sniffed. "Genuinely disgusting."

"I mean, I didn't hate it but you don't need to put your tongue—"

"Not that, although yes, that. But all of it — the Asian fetishism, the-the internalized racism!" Hermione spat. "For goodness' sake, Harry, they're not even Middle Eastern — harems and belly-dancing are much more of a thing of Persian culture, not Indian!"

Harry squinted. "I, yes, I did try to make that point but I was too busy um, cumming—"

"It's just fetishistic appeal, objectifying themselves as sex toys for your" she jabbed a finger into his chest "—hormonal pubescent fantasies." She scoffed. "I'm embarrassed for them, really."

"Me too." Harry agreed as he pushed her back onto her bed. "Shall we have sex now?" He slid his hand up her thigh, flipping up her skirt.

"We can't." Hermione breathed out, her fingers already clutching at the sheets.

"What? Why?"

"Because, Harry, it will totally undermine my point." She glared.

"We can have sex in like, a respectful feminist way." He promised, kissing his way up her leg.

"Not having sex, I mean," Hermione's voice dropped so low that he had to strain to hear her. "When you see how wet I am."

"Oh?" He said, his fingers sliding into the waistline of her panties. "Did the twins' little slave fantasy turn you on?"

"It's not that." Hermione wailed as he tried to tug her knickers down, stubbornly refusing to lift her bum up. "It's watching you be so smart, solving a murder, using your brain." She shivered. "Being so brilliant." She bit her lip and peered down at him between her thighs. "It's the wettest I've ever been."

She pointed at him with a shaky finger. "I do not want you think it's because of your crass misogynistic adventures with those two silly little girls. Understand?"

"Got it." Harry nodded. He peeled her panties down — Merlin, even the sound of the fabric was wet and marvelled at the long creamy strings of goo that snapped between her panties and pussy.

"Fuck, you're dripping." Her panties were literally pooled with glistening white dew, her pussy red and gleaming and seeping.

Hermione wailed as he put a finger to her sodden heat, her whole body quivering as she had a little orgasm.

"I'll have to solve more crimes." He joked.

"Yesss," Her eyes rolled back as he slid his finger in.

He took his finger out. "Shall I maybe solve a crossword or two? I hate to skip the foreplay."

Hermione glowered at him, her hand snatching his hair. "Harry!"

"Yes, dear?" He said innocently.

"Stop gloating and give me that monstrous penis of yours." She said primly. Her thighs spread. "I want you to take me until I'm dribbling from the lips, like that silly Parvati girl."

"Hermione!" Harry chastised as he magicked himself naked. "She was foaming from the mouth because of a very serious curse, you can't make light of it."

"I—" Hermione's answer was never sounded because he slid his dick into her and her whole body curled, a gasp from her lips until she cried out a soundless scream.

Harry grinned as he took a one-handed hold of her perky tits, the other around her hips. "That's what I thought."

There's no way to win an argument with Hermione, Ron had said.

Harry knew better. There was only way — his favourite way — to fuck her hard as she opened her mouth.

###

Valentina Zabini stood in front of her gilded mirror, reapplying the lipstick that she knew needed no touch-ups, the only concession she made to the news she'd just read.

Her wand sat in a old tin on her dresser, amongst her hairbrushes and pins. She wouldn't need it tonight — she almost never did.

One more layer of deep crimson to the bottom lip. A kiss to herself to pass the crimson from bottom to top, her mother's words echoing in her mind, even though the woman was long dead.

Always look beautiful, piccola. A man must wait until he is gifted a wand. A woman is born with all she needs.

Mother had been full of advice, wisdom that had served her well over the years. Growing up in Naples after the war, she'd known poverty so deeply that she never thought she'd escape it.

Poverty of the mind — the prison that few escaped. The plebeians that didn't know they were plebeians — fighting over bread and wine, arguing over whose wand produced the brightest sparks, that once-a-year meal in the local restaurant and dressing up in your Sunday best so that the whole neighborhood could see that just for one day, one beautiful day, you were better than them.

Marrying the son of the area's loan shark, an amateurish two-bit operation — it had seemed like making it. He'd had his own broomstick. Now he had his painting on her wall, one of seven. The first of seven.

How far she'd come. Mother hadn't made it, drinking herself to death when she wasn't on her back for the up and coming of the local Camorra.

Valentina had. Her room was lavish, her villa luxurious, her lifestyle decadent. None of that would have mattered if her mind hadn't broken free of the bars her birth had given her.

She knew what it meant that her room's decor was baroque.

She knew that the distant opera that wafted through the open windows was Vivaldi.

Her villa was Renaissance, of course, but it was her courtyard that she was most proud of.

The courtyard's walls were stolen from Pompeii, depicting satyrs and centaurs, bulls and ivy. The cult of Dionysus, the god of fertility, wine and growth.

The cult that dated back over three thousand years, that introduced bacchanalia to Rome. Sex and excess, wine and violence. Valentina had explored the world, every philosophy and religion, seeking to open her mind in every way.

But it was always the cult of Dionysus that she returned to.

Her mirror smiled back at her, showing a woman of elegance and beauty. A black dress tailored to her curves, shimmering in the light. A slender bare leg sticking out of the slit in her dress, because one never knew where the next man could come from.

She smiled back. After all she'd done to leave Naples behind, she always came back to her mother's teachings.

A man must wait until he is gifted a wand. A woman is born with all she needs.

Valentina took another deep breath. It wouldn't do to show the tempest of rage that brewed inside her, not tonight.

She should have expected this, she supposed. She had told Blaise to find his own power, to walk his own path. That was why she'd put him in Hogwarts, after all.

But she thought he'd be smarter than to believe in the Dark Lord's promises.

Stupid or not, she'd have to step in. He was her son, after all.

The Dark Lord would retrieve Blaise from his sticky situation, with the right incentive.

Harry Potter would need to pay. Valentina was looking forward to it — the boy was a mystery, from Dumbledore's pet to owning Narcissa Malfoy herself.

She sniffed at the thought of the blonde woman.

The dumb blonde had probably thought to seduce the boy with the treasure between her thighs. A virgin brought to heel — Valentina had done it herself, once. Only Harry Potter had enchanted Mrs Malfoy with a big dick and a teenager's stamina.

"Amateur." Valentina murmured.

Harry Potter would find her more difficult to sway. Oh, she'd tease and smirk and play coy, spinning her web. But when he hungrily splayed her legs open and rammed his cock inside, he'd find not treasure but her spider's bite.

In her mind's eye, her mother raised a glass with rosy cheeks. "Like I always say, piccola." She giggled tipsily. "Many a man meets his demise, between a woman's thighs."


Harry catches the killer - did you catch the clues? This murder mystery arc was a lot of fun to write, even if it was really hard work. Let's hope Harry's ready for Mother Zabini. Next week, next Friday, next chapter - Tonks tries to infiltrate again, Harry's back at the Veela court but this time in the 80s, and more Bellatrix.

Want to read a few chaps ahead for the return of Potter and the sidekicks (this time in France), see the art of Lingerie Week and the girls Halloween costumes, and read a few chaps ahead, along with exclusive salacious artwork of Fleur, Hermione, Daphne and more from this story, as well as fun little sexy story scenes? Check my profile bio.

Free no strings art on my X right now, link in bio. Fleur as a French maid, Helena and Cissy in lingerie together and Daphne in a teddy - don't miss it. Just a taste of the many more elsewhere.