"Incendio."
Hermione pointed her wand at the unlit fireplace, and the logs caught fire and crackled. Harry sat down in front of the fireplace, and Ron and Hermione sat wordlessly on either side of him. Even with the flames licking at their backs, giving off light and heat, it was impossible to completely dispel the darkness and icy chill of the room. Several minutes passed in stifling silence until a shuffling sound came from the hallway outside and the heavy wooden door leading into the room swung open. Dean and Seamus led the way, followed by the other D.A. members with puzzled expressions on their faces.
"Harry, what's going on? I'm starving," said Justin.
"Exactly, just tell me why you called us here." George plopped down in front of the table and put his legs up on it.
"Marietta's dead," Ron replied, and George stumbled and fell backwards in his chair, followed by a brief silence.
"I saw green smoke in the hallway over there — was there an accident?" Angelina said in a quavering voice.
"She was murdered — the smoke knocked the others out and then someone shot the Killing Curse with this wand," Harry said, picking up Neville's wand from the table.
"Did we have a security breach?" asked George, pulling himself upright, seemingly forgetting the pain of the fall he had just taken.
"There was no sign of it," said Hermione seriously. "It wasn't done by an outsider, done by someone who was already here. . . ."
A silence fell over the drawing room, heavier and longer than the previous one. Lee Jordan, Alicia, Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who hadn't even taken their seats yet, exchanged looks of confusion and horror, while the Patil twins huddled close together, sobbing. Malfoy, standing alone in a corner a few feet from the others, leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"But that's nonsense!" cried George. "How can it be? One of us has killed our friend — that's just unbelievable . . . "
"I don't want to believe it either," Harry said, trying to keep his composure. "But all the evidence points to this being an inside job. Besides, Marietta was trying to tell me something important earlier, and I think the killer did this to shut her up."
"So what's our plan?" said Malfoy. "We're still going to rescue Scorpius and the children tomorrow, aren't we?"
"You idiot, how can we do that with a murderer in our midst?" Ron shot back angrily.
"He's right, all the inside information has probably already been leaked by the killer," said Harry. "We should cancel tomorrow's operation and try something else on a new date after we catch the culprit."
Malfoy's face paled in the glow of the fireplace and he staggered to his feet, supporting himself against the wall. The thought of not being able to save his son tomorrow seemed to have hit him harder than the thought of a murder in his own manor. Harry was as surprised and heartbroken as he was that Marietta was dead, that one of the members of the D.A. who had been with him for so long had betrayed his friends.
The only sound in the room was the crackling of wood in the fireplace. A few minutes later, the door burst open again and Katie, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, Ernie Macmillan and Cho Chang, who had been in the kitchen earlier and inhaled the green smoke, stumbled in, assisted by Neville and Hannah Longbottom. They sat down hesitantly in the remaining seats, and Cho, her eyes swollen, reached for a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that continued to flow. The silence lasted for a few more moments before Ginny, Dennis, Teddy, and Faraday entered the room, closing the door firmly behind them. Ginny took the envelope from Dennis and walked forward with Faraday to turn on the projector.
"This is a picture of the scene of Marietta's death. It was taken with Dennis's camera," Ginny said as she put the picture into the projector. On the screen before her was the gruesome image of Marietta, lifeless with a terrified face, lying among the sackcloth and shards of glass that littered the pantry. It was a sight Harry had witnessed in person earlier, but it seemed even more horrific on the big screen, and everyone in the room gasped or sobbed quietly. Cho now buried her face in her hands and cried out loudly.
"What do we do now?" said Faraday, breaking the long silence. Harry, who had been staring at Marietta's wide open mouth as if she was about to say something, snapped out of it and looked back at Faraday. "There's been a murder, and now we have to solve it, don't you think?"
"It's like you've been waiting for it to happen, Mr. Prewett," said Ernie sharply.
"Not at all, but I won't deny that I'm a habitual reader of murder mysteries," said Faraday calmly, then opened a large leather bag he had brought into the room and set it on the floor, dumping its contents on the table with a thud. Harry recognized the familiar covers and knew they were his own biographies. "Here, these are Harry's biographies. I used to enjoy them quite a bit, and according to them, all sorts of things happened at Hogwarts when you were there. . . . Every time I read such stories, I think about what I would have done. So I'm telling you, get me a bottle of Veritaserum right now!"
"Faraday, you must not have read it properly," said Hermione glumly. "It's true that the potion is useful for interrogation, but it takes a full moon cycle to mature, so it will take at least a few weeks to make . . . and with the entire Auror Headquarters and the Ministry of Magic disbanded, we surely have no supplies."
"Then I guess we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way," said Harry. "We'll have to rely on the memories of witnesses and look them through the Pensieve."
"I guess that's the best we can do for now," said Faraday wistfully. "In the Muggle world, deduction and evidence would be most important, but in your world you have more convenient methods . . . "
"It was Kreacher, Katie, Michael, Anthony and Ernie who passed out from inhaling the fumes in the kitchen," said Hermione, folding her outstretched fingers one by one.
"D-don't leave m-me out," stammered Cho Chang.
"Cho, you went to ask Marietta questions at my request," said Harry reassuringly.
"That's true, b-but if my m-memories can h-help the investigation, I'll d-do anything t-to help," said Cho determinedly. The tiny teardrops hanging from her long lashes glistened faintly in the light from the fireplace. "Marietta joined Dumbledore's Army because of me, so I'm responsible for her death. I'll do whatever it takes to catch her killer."
Soon they began to extract memories from the witnesses. Hermione held her wand over their heads, all focused on what had happened in the kitchen, and drew out memories in the form of silver threads, placing them one by one in small glass vials. All the while, the rest of the people seated around the table watching the process remained silent and focused, as if they were watching a solemn religious ceremony. When the six vials containing the memories of the six subjects, including Kreacher, were finally lined up on the table, Harry looked around the room.
"All right, Kreacher — you go back to our house and stay there just in case, and I'll call you if anything happens." At Harry's words, the house-elf nodded his tiny head determinedly and disappeared with a bang. "Me, Ron, Hermione and Faraday, who has a knack for Muggle investigations, will be watching these memories."
"Count me in, Potter," Malfoy said suddenly, sitting alone at the far end of the long table. He didn't seem to mind that all eyes in the room were on him. "The murder happened in my house, and as its landlord, I want to be part of the investigation."
Those who disapproved, like Ron and George, pursed their lips, but in the end they didn't verbally object.
"All right, then, come down with me," said Faraday. "The Pensieve is in the workshop, and we'll be back after seeing all the memories."
Faraday led the way, and Harry followed with Ron, Hermione and Malfoy. The five of them entered Faraday's workshop in the cellar. They locked the door behind them and sat nervously around the round table in the middle. Faraday brought in the Pensieve, which looked like a stone basin, and placed it on the table, then lined up the witnesses' memories next to it.
"So whose memories shall we look at first?"
"Let's start with Cho's." Harry said, holding up a vial with her name on it. "She was down by the entrance, so she would have seen the most. . . ."
He poured the vial's memories into the Pensieve, and the shimmering silver substance inside seemed to become transparent, revealing the dim landscape of the basement kitchen. They dipped their faces into the Pensieve, careful not to bump into each other, and Harry's feet lifted off the ground and into the air, and the next moment he was in Cho Chang's memory, along with the rest of the group. Cho was humming a tune and had just started down the stairs that led to the basement, and they were right behind her. But just as she was about to reach the kitchen, a storm of dark green smoke rose from the pantry in the distance, swallowing her screams in an instant. The next moment, Harry's body flipped backwards and he was back in the workshop.
"This is a completely useless memory," Faraday muttered, pushing her memory aside. "We need someone who's seen more."
Next, they entered Kreacher's memory. But his memory was no more useful than Cho's, for the eager house-elf was so focused on cooking that they could see nothing but a black background, except for the potatoes, raw meat, and vegetables on the counter in front of them. They finally left the memory for nothing.
"Let's hope Ernie Macmillan has a better memory," Faraday said as he fed the new memory into the Pensieve. In this new memory, they could see their surroundings quite clearly. Ernie was rolling dough into a pie with a rolling pin; in front of him, Kreacher was busy pounding meat; behind him, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner were talking and giggling together, chopping vegetables with a knife. Harry wanted to move toward the pantry where Marietta would be, but the view in that direction was cloudy and apparently not part of Ernie's memory.
"But where's Katie?" said Ron, looking around. Harry suddenly realized that Katie was nowhere to be seen in the kitchen.
"Wait, here she comes!" Hermione shouted, her voice soon turning into a short, shrill scream. Harry glanced in the direction of the pantry, where a huge cloud of green smoke was billowing, followed by Katie with a murderous look on her face, wand pointed at her friends. When the memory ended, they were back in the present, but Hermione was blue in the face and shaking, and Ron, who had an arm around her shoulders, looked just as terrified.
"How can this be . . . ? Katie wouldn't do this!" exclaimed Ron.
"Maybe she's under the Imperius Curse. When we were sixth years, Katie was under its effect and . . . " Hermione began, her voice shaking slightly, then stopped when she realized that Malfoy was with her. Malfoy, the man responsible for the incident, had a dark expression on his face, his eyes vacant.
"There's only one way to find out, and that's to go into Katie's own memories," Harry said as he put her memory into the Pensieve. But in her memory, Katie wasn't lunging at her friends with her wand, she was quietly washing dishes in the corner. With each wave of her wand, the dishes floated to the surface and were washed in the water flowing from the faucet. The clanking of metal behind her made Katie and Harry turn. To their horror, Anthony was walking slowly up to them, a maniacal grin on his face and a sharp kitchen knife in his hand.
"Anthony, what are you doing? I'm scared, don't mess with me," Katie snapped, looking terrified. Then, with a puff of green smoke, Anthony lunged at her with the knife, and with a long scream from Katie, they were pulled out of memory and back into reality.
"This can't be happening!" exclaimed Hermione. "Anthony couldn't have done this! Besides, he was a Ravenclaw prefect . . . "
"I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean much, Granger. I was a prefect once, you know," said Malfoy darkly. "Anyway, I don't think Goldstein would have done something like this. . . "
"Then let's check Anthony Goldstein's memory this time," Faraday said, pouring a bright silver substance from another vial into the Pensieve.
They entered the new memory with less expectation than before. Unlike the previous memories, Anthony was alone and peaceful, chopping vegetables with a knife. His memories were unusually hazy and fuzzy compared to the others. It was then that Michael Corner began to slowly walk past them, holding a kettle with a blank expression on his face.
"Michael, can you help me?" Anthony said. But Michael didn't stop, he just walked out of the kitchen and into the pantry. Less than a minute later, the familiar green smoke filled the kitchen and ended the memory.
Michael's memory, like everyone else's, did not make sense. In his memory, Michael heard a muffled scream and went to the pantry where he found Ernie Macmillan looking down at Marietta's body, cackling and laughing as he held a cauldron that spewed green smoke everywhere. When they finally snapped back to reality and were standing on their feet in Faraday's workshop, Hermione suddenly clapped her hands.
"I finally remember what that green smoke is! At Gringotts, the goblins keep every safe filled with that hallucinogenic smoke to keep thieves from sneaking in."
"Yeah, we found out there was something in that green smoke, you know," said Ron. "So none of these memories are good? They all contradict each other, so we can't possibly know the truth . . . "
At a loss for words, they returned to the drawing room, where their friends were waiting nervously, and announced that the witnesses' memories were all distorted.
"You mean the killer could be any one of us?" said Neville, his eyes narrowing.
"Well, no. Maybe it's someone who doesn't fall into the category of us," George said, giving Malfoy a meaningful look. "Someone who has despised the rest of us for a long time . . . "
"George, it doesn't do us any good to distrust each other like this," said Harry seriously. "I'm sure even if there was a killer among us, he or she wouldn't have done it on purpose — must be under the Imperius Curse or something."
"It's nice of you to trust your friends, but it doesn't change the situation," said Seamus gloomily. He looked suspiciously at each of the members of the D.A. around the table. "We have a murderer among us, intentional or not . . . how can we trust others to watch our backs?"
"He's right," Faraday said dryly, "and there's nothing we can do about it until we catch the culprit." Having wandered through the memories of others in vain and returned without a harvest, he seemed to have lost much of his initial enthusiasm for the investigation.
"Faraday, don't give up yet. Do you happen to have any Muggle knowledge that could be used for something like this?" said Hermione, pointing to Neville's wand, the murder weapon that had been lying on the desk. "Is there any chance of fingerprints on it?"
"I've already checked it and the surface is clean. . . . The killer must not be that dumb," Faraday said, staring at the wand. Then his eyes widened, his scowl loosened and he jumped to his feet. "Harry, you had the answer!"
"What? Me?" said Harry, stunned. But Faraday stormed out into the corridor without further explanation.
The rest of the group sat and waited in silence, a mixture of confusion and mild anticipation on their faces. Harry tried to think of a reason why Faraday had said he had the answer, but he really couldn't. It was true that he, Ron and Hermione had investigated many cases since their days at Hogwarts, to the point where their professors had commented on their tendency to play detective, but how was he supposed to find evidence that he couldn't even find in the memories of eyewitnesses?
His train of thought was interrupted when Faraday burst through the door into the room again. He came straight to Harry's side of the table and placed what looked like a thin booklet on the table with a thud. The rolled up magazine opened to reveal the grinning face of Harry in his fifth year at Hogwarts, and above the picture, in large red letters, were the words:
HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN
"This is our magazine!" Luna shouted from the crowd gathered around the table. "It's a copy of the March 1996 issue, the best-selling edition in the history of The Quibbler!"
"I've given you this magazine before, Faraday," said Harry. "But what does my interview in it have to do with this case?"
"Here, read this part out loud. So we can all hear it."
Without further explanation, Faraday unfolded a section of the magazine and held it out to Harry. Harry did as he was told and read the passage under the curious eyes of everyone. It was not a pleasant experience, to be honest, as it detailed the death of Cedric Diggory on the last night of the Triwizard Tournament and how he had stood alone against Voldemort. The somber mood was heightened when Cho Chang began to sob, especially at the part where Cedric was killed by Wormtail on Voldemort's orders.
"Well, Mr. Prewett — Harry's read quite a bit, so what on earth are you trying to say?" Michael Corner, who had once dated Cho Chang, interrupted.
"Just wait — we're almost there," said Faraday stubbornly. Harry continued to read the part where the jet of red light from the Disarming Charm he had cast met the jet of green light of light from Voldemort's Killing Curse and turned into a dome of golden light that enveloped them both. When he reached the part where Voldemort's former victims appeared in the form of solid, thick smoke from the golden ray and gave him power, Faraday finally raised his hand to stop reading.
"Now, is there anyone here who can explain why this happened between Voldemort and Harry's wand?"
As usual, Hermione raised her hand before anyone else. "It's because of Priori Incantatem."
"Clever. Then of course you know what triggers the effect?"
"Yes, it's because Harry and Voldemort's wands were brothers," said Hermione. "In other words, both wands had a feather from the same creature, Fawkes the phoenix, as their cores. Such sibling wands won't fight each other, and if they are forced to by their owners, the losing wand repeats the spell in reverse, which is called the Reverse Spell effect."
"So that means it can reverse a Killing Curse?" gasped Cho. "You mean Cedric came back to life?"
"No magic can ever bring a dead person back to life," said Harry solemnly. "As an alternative, the wand conjured up a vision of Cedric. From what Dumbledore told me, it's an echo of Cedric's life, with his form and personality."
"Good, you've finally told me what I wanted to know. With this echo thing, we can solve this murder." Faraday picked up Neville's wand and held it up for all to see. "That is, if we can find the brother of this wand."