Author's note:
Hello everyone, I hope you are doing well!
My apologies for the delay regarding this chapter, somehow things kept adding up and prevented me from posting and the longer I waited the more anxious I became to post anything at all but here it is!
Last chapter, Tom asked Anna to smuggle a book out of the library for him after his learned about his lineage... This time, we are meeting Harry and Dumbledore again for a small sneak-peek of their (grim?) future. But things aren't always as they seem, are they? Thank you so much for reading and for the continuous support! It means the world!
- Enjoy -
February 1997 - The Fourth Lesson (Part 2)
Marriage isn't always about love.
"Then why did he marry her?"
Dumbledore patted his lips pensively with one knobbly finger, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair.
"Mmh… This is a fascinating question. Why do people marry if not for love?"
Harry did not respond, for he believed such query did not await an answer. He knew little of marriage, especially of the intricate meanings of wedlock for affluent families but a little bird told him that wealth and power were not excluded from the equation.
"Was she a Death Eater?"
"Some said she was. Her close friends asserted she wasn't"
"What do you think?"
"She accepted to collaborate with the Ministry during the Wizarding War… Her help proved to be extremely precious and she knew things about him no one else did. Most of the things we are now familiar with regarding Voldemort, we owe her. Of course, this suggests that they had been quite close and it silenced the scandalmongers who assumed that she was nothing but a puppet wife he manipulated at will…"
Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the cabinet behind his desk, the one with the glass doors that showed many vials of the same size and colour, which Harry knew contained the collection of the Headmaster's memories. The wizard reached for one, after he briefly glanced at the label attached to the ampoule by a thin silvery thread.
"There is something I would like to show you. This is the memory of Adeis Strongbark. She used to work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement"
He waved his wand and a crystal jug of water appeared, which he asked Harry to pour the content of inside the Pensieve. He then unscrewed the cork with one hand and added the milky white fluid to the bowl.
Harry watched the content of the vial swirl inside the water as he bent over and immersed his face inside the lukewarm liquid. He felt like he fell hundreds of meters, his heart racing until he finally landed on the hard floor of an impersonal room, bare to the exception of a table and two chairs. A lovely young woman was sitting on one of them that Harry recognised as the one he had seen earlier that evening on the photographs.
Annabel Selwyn.
Voldemort's wife.
Her cheeks had grown hollow, accentuating the height of her cheekbones but she did not look gaunt, in fact, she looked more plump than on her wedding photos, which Harry attributed to her more advanced age. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and her grey pleated skirt exposed just enough of her shapely calf to suggest she was an athletic young woman while the fabric of her mustard shirt delicately hugged her curves and supple waist.
"Are you finally going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked with a displeased tone and he had to remind himself that she could not see him, that she was simply addressing the person behind him who just opened the door, but the obstinacy in her grey eyes and the way she looked at him, straight under her dark eyelashes, her stubborn and inflexible glance made him shiver.
He realised it was the first time he heard her voice, which was fruity and modulated, surprisingly deep compared to her innocent looks. Harry turned his head and saw a middle-aged woman - who he supposed was the investigator Dumbledore had mentioned - walk into the room. She pulled the other chair in front of the young woman and sat down.
"A little pick-me-up?" she offered, as a bottle of Fire Whiskey and two tumblers suddenly appeared on the table and she poured herself a drink. Annabel refused and placed a hand on her stomach, in a gesture Harry interpreted as her suffering from heartburn, something his aunt Petunia was subjected to as well and frequently complained about.
The investigator drank a few gulps, quickly, before she exhaled loudly and searched for something inside the inner pocket of her dark blue robe. She placed a pair of round spectacles on the tip of her nose and opened the folder she held under her arm in a calm and composed way that made Annabel fidget in impatience.
"Annabel Sybil Riddle?"
The interviewer glanced at the woman sitting across the table, who nodded. She waved her wand and a quill and an inkwell materialised on the table.
"My name is Adeis Strongbark. I am a principal investigator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I have some questions that involve your recent activities"
Annabel raised a surprised eyebrow but meekly nodded.
"Where were you on the afternoon of March 17th, Mrs Riddle?"
"Last week?"
The woman steeped the quill into the ink before she placed it on top of a blank piece of parchment, and the quill wiggled and began to put down on paper the conversation the two women were having.
"Your colleague reported that you left work earlier than usual that day, is that correct?"
"It is"
"Where did you go after work Mrs Riddle?"
"Home" she shrugged. "I was frightfully exhausted and wished to take a nap"
The woman watched her intensely and Annabel glanced back calmly, her hands crossed on the table.
"People reported having seen you leave at three o'clock sharp that day. Fireplaces tend to be jammed during rush hours but you must have avoided the tailback since you left that early…. Your home is connected to the Floo Network, isn't it?"
"We had it connected a few years back yes"
"We?" asked the wizard while raising an eyebrow.
"My husband and I"
The woman blinked a few times before she peered inside the folder again.
"You live in the countryside, is that right? Can you please confirm your address Mrs Riddle?"
The woman searched promptly for a piece of paper inside the folder and slid it on the table towards the young lady, who glanced at it briefly and nodded.
"If my estimations are correct, by leaving your workplace at three o'clock that day, and heading straight to your house as you previously stated, it should not have taken you more than ten minutes to reach your home"
Annabel nodded.
"My way back home was very swift indeed"
"Can you explain to me then, Mrs Riddle, why your house elf claims that she hasn't seen you come home before ten o'clock that night?"
Annabel stopped moving and glanced at the woman in obvious bewilderment.
"She must be confused… I went straight to my bedroom after arriving home and she even offered to brew me some tea"
The wizard in the dark robe stared at Annabel for long minutes, as if she was trying to discern the tiniest ounce of deceit in the young woman's face. She then began to skim through the folder until she found a photograph, which she handed her.
"Mrs Riddle, do you know this woman?"
Harry walked closer to the desk to have a look at the picture. A big and old lady with a humongous curly wig and tacky earrings was smiling at the lens, her stubby fingers agitating a feather fan in front of her fleshy waist. Annabel shook her head.
"I have never seen this person in my entire life"
The woman in the blue dress let out a short sigh, as if disappointed in Annabel's response.
"Her name is Hepzibah Smith. She was found dead in her house last Friday morning"
The wizard paused, as if she was expecting a reaction from the young woman in front of her.
"She has been supposedly poisoned by her house elf who confessed she might have mistakenly used poison instead of sugar to sweeten her mistress' nightcap…"
She paused again but Annabel remained calm, a serene expression on her face.
"The elf called Hokey was old, which could explain her negligence. Yet, she was also very committed and Mrs Smith's family - who could not believe the elf could commit such unpremeditated but frightful act - pressured the Ministry to ask that the elf undergoes a battery of test, to confirm or contradict her testimony. It turned out that her memory had been altered... As a result, the Ministry issued a warrant to search the house and this was found under a loose slat of the kitchen floor"
The door opened and another employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement carried a wooden crate into the room and put it on the table. The principal investigator extended her hand and opened it, revealing its content.
"9 inches Vine Wood, Thestral Tail Hair" stated the wizard as she reached for the wand inside the crate and moved it into her opened palm, as if to assess its weight.
The younger woman frowned, her eyebrows almost joining above her delicate nose and she opened her mouth in stupor.
"Do you recognise this, Mrs Riddle?"
Annabel blinked a few times and Harry saw her swallow before she spoke, her voice quivering and husky.
"This… This is my old wand"
"Old?"
Annabel nodded, more confident this time.
"I lost it weeks ago. I had another one be made since then"
The woman cocked her head to she side and raised an eyebrow, her eyes alert. She opened her folder again and scanned through the various parchments it contained.
"As far as I am concerned, no report of a lost wand has been recorded under your name, Mrs Riddle"
Annabel bit her lower lip.
"I… I didn't report it"
"Why not?"
"I guess I simply forgot"
"You forgot" said the lady with a stern voice before she glanced at the words the quill was tracing on the parchment. Harry saw that the young woman grew tense as she nervously flattened the folds of her pleated skirt with her palm.
"Your friends reported that you had been rather gone to earth in the past few weeks. Some alluded to the possibility of you having trouble in your marriage…"
"As I said, I have been terribly exhausted, that is all"
The interviewee pursued.
"Your husband is an antique dealer, am I right?"
"He is, yes. Rare and old objects fascinate him. Perhaps he will find me more interesting as I age" she attempted to joke, but the investigator shot her a condemning look.
"Mrs Hepzibah Smith was a regular customer of Borgin and Burke where, I believe, your husband works? Were you aware, Mrs Riddle, that Mrs Smith and your husband were very close?"
Annabel frowned but gave the woman a polite smile.
"I ignored it but my husband keeps in close contact with many customers. I am sure he mentioned her but it is hard to keep track of everyone he meets"
The wizard darted her a strict glance, a scowl contorting her mouth in a way that reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall. Yet, when she spoke, Harry knew the two women were of a very different kind, for the belittling tone with which she spitted her sharp and cold words would have never been used by his professor.
"Have you ever doubted your husband's loyalty, Mrs Riddle?"
Annabel's facial features stopped moving and a forbidden look showed on her face.
"I beg your pardon?"
"How would you describe your relationship with Mr Riddle? Satisfactory? Less than satisfactory?" recited the woman as she read the text of a page she had pulled out of the folder and that looked like a questionnaire. The investigator tilted her head to the side before she added:
"Some sources hinted at your husband having met Mrs Smith outside his working hours and that the both of them might have engaged in some non-work related activities… Have you ever feared your husband might be unfaithful to you, Mrs Riddle?"
"Are you suggesting my husband cheated on me with a woman twice his age, whom I killed to avenge myself?" she said in a hissing, accusatory voice.
"Mrs Riddle, your house-elf reported that you and your husband had a violent argument a few weeks ago… Crimes of passion do not only exist in novels and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement takes this affair very seriously"
"I have nothing to do with any of this" she humphed.
The woman closed the file in a sharp sound and she leaned over the table, meeting Annabel's eyes that were only two cracks from which she glared. The silence grew thick inside the room, only punctuated by the scribbling sounds of the quill. Harry saw the young woman's hand move under the table and he noticed she was stroking her lower belly, mechanically, as if such gesture soothed her. He shot a quick look at Dumbledore next to him, whose eyes slowly closed in assent and he understood, at last, that the reason for her refusing the glass of whiskey had nothing to do with heartburn
"Very well then. You will be remanded in custody until you find yourself more cooperative"
"Let's go Harry" whispered Dumbledore as he touched the Gryffindor's shoulder and they both returned to the warmth and comfort of the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore placed the memory back within the vial, and the vial back on the shelves. He walked back to his desk and sat down, patiently waiting for the boy to start talking.
Harry let himself fall inside the chair and removed his glasses, that he dried the droplets on, before putting them back on his nose.
"She was pregnant, wasn't she?" he finally asked, the question escaping his lips before he could even notice.
"She was. Eventually the child died a few weeks after its birth. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome"
"What happened to her?"
"After what I showed you? She was sentenced to a life of imprisonment in Azkaban. Poor thing brought her baby into the world alone. What is terribly upsetting about this whole affair is that her trial has been expeditious and important procedures have been ignored. One could simply blame the bad governing practices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but I believe there was something else..."
"You think she was innocent"
He nodded.
"A key report has been issued during the trial, regarding her house-elf, Maeve. The experts were categorial, the house-elf had been lying when she said she did not see her mistress come home before ten o'clock that night. Yet, for some reason, the people from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement thought it was better not to lend too much weight to a piece of evidence that could have entirely innocent her"
"Was her wand the only evidence?"
"Sadly not. The Department found some objects that belonged to Mrs Smith where Annabel and Voldemort used to live. A locket, that belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and a cup who was reported belonging to Helga Hufflepuff..."
Harry frowned.
"Where was Voldemort at the time?"
"Supposedly on a business-trip"
"The perfect alibi..."
"I can see that you follow my train of thoughts, Harry"
"In this memory you showed me last time Professor, about Voldemort's childhood at the orphanage… He used to love collecting objects, didn't he?"
Dumbledore nodded, an exhaustion wrinkle crossing his forehead and the dark-haired boy darted glances at the photographs that still lied on the desk, his eyes lingering on the one that showed the gorgeous couple as they walked together, hand in hand, on which they seemed so young and innocent, ignorant of the clouds that would soon obscure their bliss.
"He framed her" Harry whispered.