In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 16: Accused
Saturday, 28 September 1996. 13:20:55.
"He's coming to."
Ron's eyes fluttered open, a blast of cool air sent goosebumps to his skin, the decorations in the periphery of his vision let Ron discern that he was in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts. He struggled for a moment against ropes binding him to a wooden chair; each motion made each fiber of the rope threaten to burn into his flesh as his clothes had been removed. Ron sat starkers. In an arm chair in front of Ron sat Professor Dumbledore, flanked by two standing Professors, McGonagall and Snape. Professor Dumbledore kept his focus on Ron, blue eyes that pierced into the soul, however these eyes were currently devoid of their normal twinkle.
"Perhaps this monster cares to explain," Professor Snape said, loudly.
"My damn head is sore enough without—!" Ron snapped.
"Twelve people died," Professor Snape sneered, "Call the Healers—"
"Where's…?" Ron started before the number sunk in, his expression went more somber, before his eyes glanced at Professor Snape. "Twelve?"
"From your blood fest melee," Professor Snape said, in his usual dry tone, "Six more are under treatment in the infirmary in case you need to finish your handiwork."
"It was not our blood fest!" Ron protested.
"Ten points for your cheek," Professor Snape said.
"And I'm starkers!" Ron snapped.
"Your clothes were … collected as evidence," Professor Dumbledore said.
"The Minister will be here shortly to investigate you and your accomplices—" Professor Snape said to Ron.
"That is enough Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, his trembling hand gripped his cane.
Professor Snape glared at Ron.
"It wasn't us!" Ron protested to Professor Dumbledore, "We heard screams like everyone else."
"What specifically .. do you remember?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"We were browsing the magazines in Kildary's and Milton's," Ron said, "We heard screaming, ran outside, tripped and fell. We were stunned. Weird seeing the falling—"
"Have the culprits been kept isolated like I requested?" Minister Fallerschain asked as he opened the door to the Headmaster's office.
Flanked by two aurors, the man in the sky blue suit, entered. Ron had first glanced around, noted the absence of Harry, Hermione, and Gia, before fixing them onto the Minister. Ron felt the embarrassment of being starkers before him, as the Minister's eyes moved to survey Ron's physique. Professor Dumbledore's eyes moved off to the mirror that reflected Minister Fallerschain's slender figure.
"Their guilt or innocence … remains uncertain," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Plenty of eyewitnesses," Minister Fallerschain said, finger pointed at Ron, "Guilty, guilty, guilty — they will be executed—"
"Then you must … convince me of … their guilt," Professor Dumbledore said, "Until then, .. any talk of them … being removed from Hogwarts … is speculation. To assist, … I will personally administer Veritaserum—"
"What?!" Ron stammered.
"Ronald," Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes focused at Ron, "The Minister is pressing … capital murder charges … against both yourself … and your friends, … so everyone must be … confident in your statements … in order for them … to carry any weight. … I will personally administer it."
"Too late," Minister Fallerschain said, "Charges have already been filed—they are to be surrendered—"
"Stop this squabble," Professor Dumbledore said, "Demonstrate … sufficient evidence … to warrant the charges … and I will release … them into your custody. Until then, … they remain under … my protection with authority … as the Headmaster and … as the Supreme Mugwump."
Professor Dumbledore grabbed a teacup and the pot.
"Hardly the time for tea—it's given orally—" Minister Fallerschain protested.
"Entertain an old man's insistence for civility," Professor Dumbledore stated.
Minister Fallerschain glared as Professor Dumbledore dribbled in several clear drops from a small vial into the cup of tea. Professor McGonagall cut the ropes and handed the cup to Ron.
"It this wise?" Minister Fallerschain asked, "Unbinding him? How long will it take to act? Especially in tea?"
"A minute, … I have been assured," Professor Dumbledore said, "Regardless, Mr. Weasley … treasures my respect so … he will cooperate."
Ron drank the tea and ate a biscuit.
"Very well," Minister Fallerschain grumbled, "We'll try it your way."
After reaching into his pocket, Minister Fallerschain took out his Quick Quotes Quill and placed it onto a roll of parchment.
"Name?" the Minister asked.
"Ronald Weasley."
"Date of Birth?"
"March 1st, 1980."
"Who is your best friend?"
"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
"Who is your girlfriend?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Minister," Professor Snape said silkily, "I have no desire to hear Weasley's fevered adolescent fantasies—"
Minister Fallerschain glared at Professor Snape.
"Snape is it?" Minister Fallerschain said, "Relationships are critical in my investigation, particularly those of murderers. They can indicate where lies exist that even Veritaserum cannot dispel. If you don't want to stay, that is your choice."
Professor Snape remained, Professor Dumbledore rolled his eyes to the Veritaserum concern. Minister Fallerschain focused back at Ron.
"Who are your parents?" Minister Fallerschain asked Ron.
"Molly and Arthur Weasley."
"Are you a virgin?"
"No."
"Minister," Professor McGonagall said, "Keep the questions germane."
Minister Fallerschain's darted to Professor McGonagall.
"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, Right?" Minister Fallerschain said, "Unless you're assisting in a cover–up, I suggest you let me continue with the questioning."
"A skilled investigator could be more discrete," Professor McGonagall said.
"Minerva is doing her … duty as a guardian would," Professor Dumbledore said, "After all, Mr. Weasley … is underage."
"I am conducting the questioning," Minister Fallerschain said, "You may conduct your own, later, when he is in Azkaban."
Fallerschain returned his gaze back to Ron.
"What is today's date?"
"Saturday, September 28, 1996."
"Were you in Hogsmeade this morning?"
"Yes."
"Which shops did you go to?"
"Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, Zonko's, and the bookshop."
"Did you get blood on you?"
"Yes, but—"
"Did you see a killer at the scene before you?"
"No, but—"
"What were the injuries on the people?"
"Stab wounds, but—"
"Who was with you?"
"Harry."
"Do you mean Harry Potter?"
"Yes, but—"
"Are you aware of the incident where Mr. Potter was purported to beat Neville Longbottom?"
"Yes, but—"
"Are you aware that Mr. Potter's whereabouts at Hogwarts are routinely unknown."
"Yes, but—"
"Are you aware of the incident where Mr. Potter was purported to beat Seamus Finnigan?"
"Yes, but—"
"Did you stab anybody today?"
"No."
"Does your father know about your murders today?"
"I did not—"
"Yes or no, only."
"Minister," Professor Dumbledore stated, "Do not compel … any of my students … to profess guilt, … even if you have … summarily convicted Mr. Weasley."
"Weasley and Potter are always guilty," Professor Snape said, "Having the Headmaster hold these miscreants accountable would be a significant improvement."
"And there is a difference between accountability and slamming them," Professor McGonagall said, "Do not railroad them. If you are concerned at apprehending the real culprits, do not make them take the blame for the sake of convenience. It is quite conceivable that they are innocent with the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Thank you for your support—Snape was it?" Minister Fallerschain briefly glanced at Professor Snape before he brought his eyes back to Professor McGonagall. "If you have been doing your job when other incidents have come to light, perhaps this terrible tragedy could have been averted!" He turned back to Ron. "How did you dispose of your murder weapon? Pass it off—?"
"Minister," Professor Dumbledore warned, "You are prematurely … jumping to conclusions, … and since you seem to … lack the skill, … get a qualified investigator. … Consider yourself warned."
"Where were you when you hear screaming?" Minister Fallerschain asked Ron.
"Inside the bookshop, Kildary's and Milton's," Ron said.
"And you did—?" the Minister began to ask, stepped closer.
"Ran."
"Where—?"
"Outside."
Ron leaned back as Minister Fallerschain towered over him.
"That's when you started stabbing, Right?"
"I didn't—" Ron started.
SLAP!
The Minister's hand recoiled.
"Ow!" Ron groaned.
"This interrogation is terminated," Professor Dumbledore stated, "Severus, please … escort in Mr. Potter."
Professor Snape left the office.
Minister Fallerschain glared at the Headmaster. "This is uncalled for! The Board of Governors—"
"Will support a Headmaster … protecting the students … in his charge," Professor Dumbledore said, "I have not failed … to do so. However, … they would be interested in … learning about a Minister … trying to assault … a student within the castle."
"Rubbish!" Minister Fallerschain protested.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said, "You are suspended … until further notice." In a surge of magic, the old man's speech grew steady. "I will keep your wand. You are to return to Gryffindor Tower and will remain there. Failure to comply is both unwise and would incur my wrath. Do not expect me to take any matter lightly. Am I understood?"
"Yes," Ron said.
"Merely suspended?!" Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, "Half the inmates in Azkaban would dearly love such an arrangement!"
"Steady your tongue … Minister," Professor Dumbledore said, "Minerva, please escort … Mr. Weasley to Gryffindor Tower."
Professor McGonagall watched as Ron stood up. Ron followed her through the door onto the spiral staircase; it began to descend.
"Regardless of what truly happened," Professor McGonagall said, "I have never been more ashamed in my life at the tarnish this episode brings to the formerly impeccable reputation of the Gryffindor house. I am very disappointed."
"It wasn't us," Ron replied.
They stepped off the stairs and passed the Stone Gargoyle. Harry and Professor Snape approached; Harry was also starkers and nobody was smiling. Ron's blue eyes locked onto Harry's, sensed the apprehension in Harry, until Professor McGonagall gently placed her hand onto Ron's back, applied a gentle nudge. Ron walked.
"Get out of here!" yelled Ernie Macmillan as Ron and Professor McGonagall walked past, Ernie leveled his wand.
"That is unnecessary, Mr. Weasley has no wand on him," Professor McGonagall replied.
"Check his arse!" Ernie Macmillan demanded.
Ernie was not the only one; Ron walked past many others with drawn wands trained. Professor McGonagall kept Ron moving, until they stopped in front of the Fat Lady.
"Password?" the Fat Lady challenged.
"Murder," McGonagall replied.
The portrait swung open.
"I strongly advise you to heed Professor Dumbledore's instructions Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said.
Ron walked through, the portrait closed, which left him facing his housemates, naked. Ron crossed over, people cleared out of the way, as he sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Ron did not notice the pair of feet sticking out from beneath the sofa, the pair that quickly withdrew to hide.
Dean Thomas, though, glared at Ron, flashed his Prefect badge.
"Murderers are not welcome," Dean Thomas said.
"I didn't!" Ron protested.
"A dozen people can't testify to that," Dean Thomas said, "You were caught red handed! Literally!"
"We tripped!" Ron protested.
"Leave!" Dean Thomas leveled his wand at Ron. "I do not want you near me again! Percissus!"
Ron felt his gut wrench hard, as the fast, hard punch of the curse hit him; the momentum of the curse pushed him and couch backward. Ron's head hit the stone floor. Dean Thomas stepped over the first year getting out of the way, towered over Ron, wand drawn and aimed at Ron's head.
"Understood?" Dean Thomas asked.
Under the glare of the others in the common room, and the wand tip kept nudged behind the ear, Ron crawled on the floor.
"Whoa!" Seamus snapped as Ron came to the stairs.
"I'm restricted," Ron grumbled.
"Alright, a vote!" Dean Thomas said, "Do we let him cower up in his bunk, or do we turn him over to the Aurors!"
"It's not your decision to make," Ron said.
"I'm the one with the wand and the badge!" Dean said.
Ginny bolted over, left her parchment to fly of the table, as she pushed Dean Thomas aside. She, with her own Prefect badge, attached to Colin's gray jumper on her, stood there, guarded her older brother.
"They should be locked up in Azkaban!" Josh Brenner exclaimed.
"Well I don't think they did it!" Neville said, "Always possibilities—"
"Maybe—" Thomas swung his wand around, aimed at Neville standing in front of the fireplace "—we have an—"
"Forget it," Seamus Finnigan said as he grabbed the wand from Dean Thomas, "Some people need their own blood spilled first, several times over."
"Perhaps." Dean Thomas went for the door.
"Dean?" Seamus Finnigan asked.
"We want answers," Dean Thomas stated.
Applause of the several dozen students escorted Thomas out of Gryffindor Tower, the same cheering that echoed up the stone spiral staircase, as it chased Ron up. Ginny followed, closed the door to the sixth year boys bedroom. Ron spun around, glared at Ginny.
"It's a boy's room!" Ron growled.
"I'm definitely writing," Ginny said, penning into the air, "Dear Fred and George, I regret to inform you that your record has been murdered by none other than Ronald."
"That isn't funny," Ron stated.
"Lemme see…" Ginny counted on her fingers. "Bill at Gringotts, Charlie playing with dragons, Percy at the Ministry, Fred and George with their joke shop—but now you in Azkaban on mass murder."
"It wasn't me so shut it unless you want to be next!" Ron snapped, his fists went up.
"Fine, I'll leave if you insist," Ginny said as she turned around, "Besides, your blood wouldn't go good with this jumper—Harry's might."
Ginny left. Ron rummaged into his trunk, brought out Apparation Theory. He sat on the trunk and started to read.
Harry felt a brief tingle of his forehead as he drank the tea; he was sitting on the wooden chair, starkers.
"When will the Deputy Headmistress return?" Minister Fallerschain asked.
"She had an errand after escorting Mr. Weasley to Gryffindor Tower," Professor Snape said, "Apparently."
"For expediency," Professor Dumbledore said, "She will use … Floo Powder … to return."
A moment later, with her billowing green robes, Professor McGonagall walked out of the fireplace.
"You may … begin," Professor Dumbledore said.
"What is your name?" the Minister asked Harry.
"Harry Potter."
"Date of Birth?"
"July thirty first, nineteen eighty," Harry replied.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" the Minister asked.
"Yes," Harry replied.
"When did you last have sex with her?" the Minister asked.
"Last night," Harry said.
"Do not put that image into our minds," Professor Snape said.
For a brief moment, Professor McGonagall let a quick smirk escape her lips before she brought them back in line.
"What is the name of your girlfriend?" the Minster asked.
"Gia," Harry said.
"Where were you last night?" the Minister asked.
"In her bed," Harry replied.
"Focus on the charges," Professor Dumbledore said to the Minister.
"Why did you kill this morning?" Minister Fallerschain asked.
"I didn't!" Harry protested.
"And before you interrupt—" the Minister pointed at the Headmaster "—let me remind you that interrogation is a terrible thing to have to do, but the questions must put the subject into a state of discomfort if we're to learn anything useful."
"Given the short notice, I have stepped in as a person of counsel until such time as a proper solicitor can be arranged," Professor McGonagall said.
"Historically, Minister," Professor Snape said, "Both the Headmaster and the Deputy have played favorites when it comes to Potter."
"Evidently some things must be changed!" Minister Fallerschain said, "Mr. Potter, the charges are murder and conspiracy. If convicted, the penalties include life imprisonment in Azkaban, a Demeantor's kiss, or execution. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"Did you use a charm to kill?" Minister Fallerschain asked.
"No," Harry replied.
"A sword?" Minister asked.
"No," Harry said.
"Then how did Skip die?" Minister Fallerschain asked.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"The shopkeeper, of the store you claim to have visited," the Minister said, "Did you check out the of–age collection?"
"What?!" Harry stammered.
"Consult Witch Weekly or The Daily Prophet," Professor Snape said, dryly, "Potter does not need that material."
Minister Fallerschain kept asking questions, with jabs, for a couple of hours.
"You have clearly trained Potter in the art of subterfuge!" Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, finger pointed.
"Ask relevant questions and you'll get relevant answers," Professor McGonagall said.
"James Otterswick will be leading the investigation," Minister Fallerschain said, "Right now, he's in Hogsmeade collecting evidence, he'll be wanting to question these murderers tomorrow."
"Mr. Potter has not been convicted, nor is it even close," Professor McGonagall said.
"Severus, escort the Minister," Professor Dumbledore said, "Question Miss. Granger."
"There are to be no surprises!" the Minister said.
Professor Snape led Minister Fallerschain, and the two aurors, out of the office. This left Harry sitting in front of Professor Dumbledore on his armchair, and Professor McGonagall standing there.
"This is serious, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"You are suspended," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Rules require it," Professor McGonagall said, "As such, your wand and your Portkey have been confiscated, along with any and all other privileges. Your girlfriend, Miss. Prescott, has been returned home."
"What?!" Harry stammered.
"As she was your guest, that is a privilege," Professor McGonagall said, "As you are suspended, she was no longer an authorized guest of this Castle, and I personally escorted her home."
"That's—" Harry started.
"Those are the rules," Professor McGonagall said, "As much as Albus and I would like to believe you, we must follow the rules, otherwise you would already be in Azkaban awaiting trial."
"Evidence," Professor Dumbledore said, "We need evidence."
"Sorry, but I wasn't planning on needing an alibi," Harry said, "I was thinking maybe take Gia to Dervish and Banges, or the Three Broomsticks, I wasn't counting on this…mess."
"I'm sorry, I truly am," Professor McGonagall said, "I'll take you to Gryffindor Tower, you are to remain there until otherwise notified, understood?"
"Yes," Harry said.
Harry stood and followed Professor McGonagall.
"A black day for Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said.
"It wasn't my fault," Harry said, "I haven't a clue who—unless you throw out the obvious Voldemort, but he's nowhere near Hogsmeade."
Like Ron, Harry faced the wands, the glares, as he walked the corridors and stairs of Hogwarts. Harry's rage started to build, the absurdity, of having stumbled over the victims only to be accused of killing them. Now, he was stuck, trapped at Hogwarts, while Gia was in Noigate; Harry wanted to see her, wanted to see her badly, but he didn't want to jeoparardize the faith that Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall seemed to show in him. Still, his rage grew. They made it to Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall watched as Harry entered, before she closed the portrait.
Click!
Colin had his camera up, aimed at the starkers Harry.
"Can you smile?" Colin asked.
"Get bent!" Harry snapped.
Harry rushed across the common room, climbed the steps fast, before he stormed into the dormitory. He swung his arms, mad, before his right grabbed the water pitcher, threw it hard across the room.
Crash!
Glass shattered against the wall, the water poured down it, while the shards flew, rebounded, as they fell to the floor.
"Damn! Nightmare!" Harry exclaimed, "He seemed so convinced of our guilt that I swore he's already sold out the tickets to our Demeantor's Kiss!"
Harry stomped his feet as he circled the dormitory for a moment. Ron was still sitting on his trunk; he put down Dietary Habits of Effective Quidditch Players.
"Twelve—" Ron started.
"Like I don't know that after Snape's gloating? Oh, he and Fallerschain seemed to make a sport out of trying to trip me, of trying to confirm what they seem so convinced of—there is no way we could be anything BUT guilty!" Harry clenched his fists. "BASTARDS! Wouldn't take anything that sounded like innocence—"
"Pressure's a part of investigations," Ron said.
"Going along—?!" Harry demanded.
"It was the same for me!" Ron retorted.
"DICK FALLERSCHAIN! WANTS ME DEAD! THERE'S NO OTHER REASON!" Harry said.
Harry ripped off the curtains to Seamus Finnigan's four poster.
"Murderers go to Azkaban, if they're nice," said Ron.
"MAY AS WELL BE AN EXECUTION! …. ARE YOU IN? YOU'RE BLOODY CALM—!" Harry pointed his finger at Ron.
"So?" Ron said, "Like I can do a bloody thing about it."
"FALLERSCHAIN—" Harry mocked, "WHY DID YOU MURDER AND YOU'RE A DARK WIZARD, CONFESS!"
"Sounds as pleasant as mine—do calm down, just a bit," Ron sad.
"WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I CALM DOWN?" Harry asked.
Harry repeatedly banged his head against his own four poster.
"Dumbledore sent Gia back," Harry said, "I can't even go!"
"You're not alone there," Ron said as he pointed to Harry, "I'm suspended too."
"Sorry, I didn't think," Harry said.
The dormitory door opened, Hermione came in.
"Hi," Ron said to Hermione.
Harry moved to his trunk, grabbed a Dungbomb, ran, lit it, and threw it into the door opening. Hermione closed the door as the Dungbomb ricocheted down the stairwell, and she locked the door.
"Am I interrupting?" Hermione asked, "Or should we continue to tick off our house?"
"No," Harry sneered, "Why come on in!"
"You have to excuse him," Ron said, "It's a bad day and he's not allowed to see Gia."
"Got that right," Harry snapped.
"I'm in this mess too!" Hermione exclaimed, her flashing eyes trained onto Harry's bottle green.
"Sorry," Harry said, a bit softer.
Harry grabbed a stool, sat on it.
"I take it they discussed the Demeantor's Kiss with you," Hermione said, "I'd rather not experience that!"
"Me neither," Ron said, as he sat on his trunk.
Hermione sat to Ron's right on the trunk.
"I'll happily take credit for gallantly saving your arses," Hermione said, "I'm trying to save mine too. So, let's put our heads together, try to vindicate us. At least with Harry, here, we're assured at least a show trial, so let's prepare."
"Likely as fruitful as Sirius' efforts were," Harry said.
"Lets not give up without a fight," Hermione said, "So, I know you heard the scream."
"Discussed this a dozen times with dick face," Harry said.
"Let's try it," Ron said, "I'd rather not be the Weasley sent to Azkaban, or executed."
"Every detail," Hermione said, "No matter how small, how trivial."
Hermione grabbed parchment, set it in on the trunk lid next to her, and grabbed a pen.
"Harry, you opened the door," Hermione said, "Whats the first thing you saw?"
"A falling person," Harry said, "Not just one, many."
"Did you see anybody standing?" Hermione asked, "Not falling?"
"Not that I could see," Ron said.
"Nor I," Harry said.
"Did you see the object that—?" Hermione asked.
"I did not—" Harry protested.
"I'm not accusing," Hermione said, "I simply want your observations!"
"Wish the Minister were so kind," Ron stated.
Harry glared.
"I didn't see whatever killed them," Ron said to Hermione.
"At least one bloke gets it," Hermione said, "I don't know what you saw until you tell me. The Minister kept asking about weapon, not wand, so it had to of been some sort of object that killed them. Any sparks, any glints of steel, anything that could have been part of a weapon? Or from one?"
"Not that I could see," Harry said, "I tripped, remember?"
"Focus on the first person you saw falling," Hermione said, "How much blood did you see?"
"None," Harry said.
"None on the one that fell toward me," Ron said.
"So," Hermione said, "The culprit was invisible."
"I'm not making this up!" Harry protested.
"I never said you were," Hermione said, her right hand pointed, "Look in your trunk for invisibility suggestions! What you described meant that whoever did it was close, very close, so the killers had to be invisible!"
"Killers?" Ron asked.
"Eighteen people attacked in the blink of an eye?" Hermione said, "All the while staying invisible, from close range, and escaping? They framed us, it was premeditated, so it must've been organized."
"I doubt we'd be allowed to hunt for clues," Harry said.
"Better than saying we didn't do it'," Hermione said, "Besides—"
THUMP! THUMP!
"Alohomora!"
Dean Thomas led the charge, Seamus Finnigan was one step behind. They stormed into the room.
"Assaults? Murder? Dungbombs?" Dean Thomas demanded, "Then locking us out of our own dormitory?!"
Harry's right hand flipped Dean Thomas off. Ron's hand felt a shard of the old water pitcher on the trunk right behind Hermione's butt, he grabbed it.
"One move," Dean Thomas threatened, eyes focused and wand leveled at Harry's head, "Don't you dare make a—"
"What's another murder?" Ron grabbed Dean Thomas, pulled him down, and pressed the glass shard against the olive skin.
"I'm booby trapping my bed to kill!" Dean Thomas warned as he relaxed his hand, his wand.
Ron released Dean Thomas, who quickly left. Seamus Finnigan slammed the door closed. A glow of orange, and the door steel edges fused, the planks extended to join the other wood, sealed them in.
"At least they secured the door," Harry said as he stood.
"It's a violation of school rules," Hermione said as she stood, "Guess it also decides the bed choices for us."
"And they think us murderers," Ron said, "They know they'll get away with it."
"Murderers?" Hermione said, "What am I going to tell my parents?"
"Wouldn't worry," Harry said, "They're likely writing them."
"Thanks a lot," Hermione snapped.
Ron moved, climbed onto his bed. Hermione joined him.
"That was—enlightening," the Keeper said as he sat at the table.
"It was fun," the Seeker said, popping the top to a Firewhiskey, "They seemed—astonished their lives had just come to an end. It dosn't change, does it?"
"Your actions will be effective," the Keeper said, "It'll certainly keep that Headmaster preoccupied for some while."
"We can ask Snape," the Seeker said.
"I do not trust him," the Keeper said, "No, he's useful to send disinformation to the Headmaster. Who is this Gia Prescott in relation to Potter?"
"Potter's no good girlfriend," the Seeker said, "Can you believe she's a Muggle?"
"Muggle born is common—" the Keeper said.
"Not muggle born, but a dirty Muggle beast," the Seeker said, "Something must be done to stop the contamination."
"Are you certain?" the Keeper said, "She was at Hogwarts."
"Why a filth would appreciate charred ruins is beyond me," the Seeker said, "Potter brings her around every so often, perhaps she keeps her in the closet?"
"We'll have to do something about this," the Keeper said before turning to the third man, "How about you, Beater?"
"Today was indeed, fun," the Beater said, "Count me in for another chance. In the meanwhile, the creatures are mating, it's working."
"Breeding is successful?" the Keeper asked.
"Taking a bit longer than anticipated," the Beater said, "I think I've got the hang of it."
"Potter won't know what hit him," the Seeker said, "I'll plan the next…adventure."
"Whatever you're planning, layoff the fatalities," the Keeper said.
"Death is effective," the Seeker said.
"Did I mention that your action today was messy?" the Keeper said, "Fortunately the investigator can be…persuaded. However, too many deaths and we can't keep Potter out of Azkaban."
"He deserves to rot in there," the Seeker said.
"At the appropriate time, not before," the Keeper said, "I'd rather watch the bastard squirm."