CHAPTER 27: THE GAME IS AFOOT
Turning the were-tracker into a were-pointer was as easy as stuffing it in the binding pouch with a compass.
The shifter had since last night left the hole and nobody was currently in there. James and Sirius watched the tracker spin and point east.
"He better say his last prayer now!" said Sirius.
"Or she," said James.
"It's not a she, don't be absurd."
"It might be a she! You heard McGonagall. It could be our mums, our sisters, our aunts. An agent of the Free Radicals would know I think."
"Sure it might be, it just isn't very likely."
"Why not? Do werewolves prefer to prey on blokes?"
According to Spells & Curses vampires preferred to prey on the opposite sex so it made perfect sense for werewolves to prefer to prey on the same sex since they were always opposite each other on all things.
"Well it makes sense," said Sirius. "Girls are better at skipping carbs and changing clothes."
Huh, James thought. That DID make sense.
"What if it is a woman, though?" Raise brows. "A beautiful woman! Then what would you do?"
Sirius snorted, amused.
"In that case I would cure her with luuurve!" Suggestive kissy-lips.
"In your dreams! The only thing you will ever cure is her desire to have babies!"
Their attention went back to the pointer.
"What's to the east of here?" Sirius asked.
"The Mead Woods. And beyond it, perhaps Swinesale or Pigstout?"
The pointer could be pointing to the remote village Ham, or the distant town of Moleicester. It could even be pointing to China!
And so they hopped on James's sweet ride and soared wherever the pointer pointed. Sirius watched it and it became obvious very quickly that it wasn't working right. They would go in one direction and the pointer would flip almost immediately.
And so they began to entertain the possibility...was it pointing to Hogwarts?
"Could it be some guest we're not aware of?" James wondered. "You did say he is some big important donor. Maybe it would make sense of him to make visits."
"I don't see what else it could be."
But this mystery donor… He seemed to be at Hogwarts all day and every day. It was a spine chilling realisation. And neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall appeared to be hosting anybody.
"Maybe we messed up the pointer," said James.
"One word, my friend!" said Sirius. "Occam's razor. The pointer works. We mustn't lose faith in it."
"Or perhaps… It's been Pomfrey all along!"
James recalled Pomfrey in blood drenched robes. The memory terrified him.
"It's not Pomfrey," said Sirius.
"Because she's a woman? Come oooonn!"
"Where would Pomfrey get her prey?"
"I think you will find prey is readily available where she hangs out!"
Sneaky Pomfrey!
"Then how come she didn't bring anybody last time?" Sirius asked.
"We don't know she didn't. Maybe she carried the prey."
But he sure hoped that no prey had been involved at all.
"Or the prey died," Sirius suggested.
"Maybe the prey somehow managed to get away. I don't know. But that doesn't mean it can't be Pomfrey."
"The shifter was there, right? We saw that, we got him. Why would Pomfrey just go there and hang out all alone? Makes no sense, see, it can't be Pomfrey."
"Why not then!"
"Because the Hogsmead Werewolf is at least 500 years old and his shadow is that of a thousand spiders, remember?"
"She could be using witchcraft to mask those things!"
"Yeah that's true…"
Determining whether or not it was Pomfrey was easy as cake. All they had to do was circle her and see if the pointer kept pointing at her.
"See it wasn't Pomfrey," said Sirius when they were walking out of the hospital wing. "I hate walking against it like this."
"I know. We need to figure out how to make that show up or down."
Mr Filth was mopping up a hall. His vicious little eyes seemed to say: I eat little chaps for breakfast!
The pointer did not point at him.
"I'm glad it wasn't Pomfrey," said James.
"My money is on Beardy Weirdy," said Sirius.
"He's not even at Hogwarts so whenever you want to pay me."
They checked Romsay, Brussels Sprouts, Miss Owl, Snail Trail, Flitters, McGonagall, Miss Ball, White-Washing, Irwin, Powers, Fanny, nurse Campbell, everybody. It wasn't any of them. It only remained to check Dumbledore. But it just couldn't be him!
So where was this big mystery donor? Why wasn't he out and about with somebody?
Why was he alone?
"Why?" said James.
"He must be some kind of eccentric," Sirius thought. "Super rich wizards can be into very sick things. He could be into locking himself up."
"It is true that very rich wizards have sick, sick minds. But why here?"
"Because that's how sick his mind is! Occam's razor!"
"Ok you keep saying that but what does it mean?"
"It means, like," Sirius's hands did some waving. "It means..," His hands again. "Uhh…" His brows dipped and his eyes went to their corners and shifted.
"You don't know what it means, I knew it."
"I do know what it means. For example, if you see a weird thing in the sky, it must be a UFO. It's called Occam's razor."
"Might be a plane."
"No it's a UFO because that's a simpler explanation, see?"
"I think a plane is a simpler explanation."
"No because it's too high up to be a plane. It's a mystical and dark blur in the sky that only air force pilots see or something and it's definitely not a plane or a bird. According to Occam's razor, the simpler explanation is always the right one no matter how bonkers it is."
"UFO just means unidentified flying object, so all that really means-"
"Aliens and saucers. Occam's razor."
"But why is that the simpler explanation? I think calling it somebody's overactive imagination is a simpler explanation. I'm sure there are scientific explanations that don't include UFO's."
"Maybe but how can you trust these scientists, huh? They're all bought and paid for. Like, why lie to us about UFO's?"
"To give more money to the Military Industrial Complex?"
"Are you very into conspiracy theories?"
"So according to Occam's Razor, the shifter is a UFO?"
"No, it's Dumbledore. There is no other explanation."
"It's not Dumbledore! It will sooner be an alien mystery donor using his kinky dungeons!"
"See? That just sounds convoluted and far-fetched. But listen to this explanation: It's Dum-bluh-dooore!"
"It's Dumb-BUHL-dooore!"
"Sounds simpler, doesn't it? Therefore…"
They said in slow unison: Occam's razor.
James was still far from convinced.
"It is not him but let's check just to shut you up."
"Need I remind you he killed my grandad over a ring that controls werewolves? What else do you need? He killed Beardy Weirdy. Let me ask you: how old is Dumbledore?"
"You said he's 200 years old."
"What if that isn't true? What if he REALLY is…"
"500 years old?"
"Did we ever check his birth certificate?"
"By jove! We haven't!"
It all made sense. Far too much sense. James could not deny such plain logic.
"He's been here for ages…," his mind, a frantic carousel of pieces assembling, "He's the most powerful man at Hogwarts. He's known the whole time, he MUST have… So why hasn't he done anything?"
"I'm afraid," Sirius laid a hand on his shoulder, "Dumbledore is not the wizard you thought he was."
Running around with their pointer had conveniently led them to the foot of the headmaster tower.
They looked up the dark and winding stairwell. If it could talk… The things it had seen…
Suddenly Dumbledore came into the hall. He was walking right towards them. James and Sirius were both holding the pointer, their hands shaking. They glanced down at it, and saw, that it was pointing right at him!
"What do we do!" James whispered. "What do we do now? Do we play dead?"
"We have to summon hunters! They're not affected by the teleportation ban!"
Dumbledore was coming right towards them, smiling.
"Good day!"
"It was a good day, sir!" Sirius replied defiantly. "But now, old man, we know what you REALLY are!"
He raised his wand and cast Summon Hunters.
CRACK!
The hunters were here, five of them, each wearing their hunter robes and carrying silver chains.
"What's going on here then?" asked their leader.
"Get him!" said Sirius. "It's Dumbledore! He's a shifter!"
The hunters formed a circle around Dumbledore, though they clearly had qualms about it. Some of them appeared to be former students with fond memories.
"Kevin, Jack," Dumbledore nodded at each of them. "How good to see you all."
"Likewise, professor," Kevin replied and glanced at Sirius. "Um… Are you sure?"
"Yes! I don't do it for the money."
"Is this some prank? What evidence you got?"
Evidence? The hunters in Diagon Alley never asked for evidence. Their pointer was their only evidence. James was holding it now. Since their first check Dumbledore had walked past them and he feared what he was going to see when he checked again.
Indeed.
The pointer was no longer pointing at him.
His mum was going to do what only Sirius's mum wanted to do: bury him alive.
"Evidence?" Sirius almost yelled. "We have so much evidence! He sleeps in a coffin! He's a sheep killer!"
"Shut up!" James hissed.
"Be quiet, the grown ups are talking. He only eats raw beef! I saw him tear it off a cow himself! His- stop waving that in my face!- closet is full of skulls! His diary is full of confessions! Come on, help me out here. We found his hidey hole and I stabbed him in the nose! Remember that? You were so brave and strong!"
"Yeah well it's all in a day's- No! No! Look!"
"He has this special room where he takes his prey and attacks them! We were there! We can show you!"
Sirius would not stop spouting outrageous lies. James pulled him away by the arm and forced him to look at the pointer.
"Excuse us!"
They turned away and he forced it in Sirius's face. He bit his lip.
"Is today April 1?" he whispered.
"No."
"Damn."
"Gentlemen," said Dumbledore to the hunters. "I believe I am being accused of something quite severe."
"We can prove your innocence easily," said Kevin. "We get false accusations all the time."
"I bet you do."
Kevin unhooked his chain. A round silver medallion with white stones was attached to it.
"Your hand please. It's the latest technology."
He placed the medallion on Dumbledore's palm. The stones glowed green- universal colour of approval.
"Some may find ways to avoid getting a reading, but you can't find a way to give a false reading. You don't have the mark. You are obviously clear."
He put the medallion away.
And gave the chaps a sour glance.
"Well that's that solved," said Jack. "We must ask that you monitor the children better and deal with them more harshly. False accusations can have serious life ruining consequences and what is worse they are a waste of time and resources."
"They sure are," said Dumbledore. "Although considering the media hysteria, is it really so surprising that they happen?"
The hunters admitted that maybe the media hysteria didn't help, apologised and teleported away. Dumbledore's graceful reaction made James feel really ashamed of himself. He was just about to blurt out some apology when…
McGonagall turned up.
"What's going on here then?"
James and Sirius had some suitcases to pack, that was what was going on.