Chapter 11

Loose Ends

"Be honest with me – is this always this boring? If so, I may need to put in for a career change."

Abraxas glanced at Tim. "How many houses are left on the list?" he asked, ignoring Tim's question.

Tim flipped through the parchment list. "Only one more, thank goodness. We've already talked to 15 neighbors and no one knows anything, no one has seen anything. Half of them didn't even know our crime-scene house existed. I doubt this last house will be any different."

Abraxas stopped and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "We're almost done but that's not an excuse to get lazy. Stay sharp. We cannot afford to miss any details. Yes, this part of the job is always boring – but it's also important. If anyone nearby witnessed anything, we need to know about it. I'm in no mood for your sarcasm. An extremely dangerous individual is on the loose now and time is of the essence in cases like this. If this work isn't living up to your expectations, then go. I'm here to catch a murderer, not to babysit you. If you do want to stay and help, then shut up and help."

Abraxas turned and walked up the street without another word. Tim could feel the heat rise in his face but he jogged and caught up to Abraxas just as he was knocking on the door of the last house.

"Abraxas, you're right, I'm sorry, I –"

But Abraxas held up a hand to silence him. "Shut up and help."

Tim did exactly that. An old Muggle man answered the door. Abraxas asked him the same litany of questions they'd asked the other neighbors while Tim wrote down everything they said. Tim's fears were correct – this person didn't have any useful information for their case either. But he kept his disappointment to himself.

"What do we do next?" Tim asked after their latest interrogee shut the door on them.

"We connect with John and see if his luck is any better. Let's get away from the Muggle section of town and Disapparate."

Their walk away from the Muggle houses brought them back towards the scene of the crime. In the mid-morning light the house looked just like its neighbors, but Tim's eyes were drawn to it like a candle in a dark room. The two second-story windows facing the street were oval shaped and Tim was uncomfortably reminded of human eyes, as if the house was alive and watching him. Even in the daylight those windows gave him the creeps. He had just looked away when he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

"Abraxas!" he said in an urgent whisper. "The house, the crime scene – I saw something move in the window."

"Which window?"

"Second story, left-hand side. I saw movement – I think something closed the curtains."

As Abraxas studied the house, his hand entered the pocket of his robes and Tim knew he was clutching his wand. "No one should be inside, so let's go see who it is. Disillusionment Charms – I want to go in quietly. You enter through the front door and wait at the bottom of the stairs. I'll go in through the second story window. If he makes a move for the stairs I'll give a shout. If I subdue him I'll give the all-clear. After two minutes, if you haven't heard anything at all, come up the stairs yourself."

Tim's heart was pounding against his ribs, but he nodded. In an instant, Abraxas and Tim vanished under Disillusionment Charms and crept towards the house. If Tim focused intensely he could see Abraxas as just a slight distortion of the air next to him – impossible to see unless you already knew he was there. They reached the house without issue – whoever was inside hadn't set up defensive spells to repel intruders. The front door was unlocked. He glanced to his left before heading inside and saw several flat rocks floating in the air in what was unmistakably a makeshift staircase leading to the second story window. Abraxas was heading in, Tim couldn't delay.

He took a deep breath and entered the house silently, wand at the ready. The kitchen looked just as it had the night before. Eyes still in front, Tim slowly closed the door behind him and then crept to the bottom of the staircase leading to the second floor. He crouched low, positioned so both the front door and the staircase were directly in his field of vision. Then he waited.

All was quiet. Thirty seconds, a minute. After a minute and a half without a signal, Tim began to sweat. Come on, Abraxas. Two minutes. Time to go. Tim placed his foot on the bottom stair when he heard a thud from above.

"Ow! Hey what are doing!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Hey!"

"Shut up! Tim, ALL CLEAR!"

Tim raced up the steps, following the voices. He entered a bedroom and saw Abraxas with a wand in each hand. The one in his right was pointed at a man on the floor.

"Barliman?" Tim asked with a sigh of relief. "What are you doing here?"

"Well it's only my bloody house, isn't it?" Barliman shouted. "The hell do you care what I'm doing at my own property. Is that a crime?"

"No, but obstruction of justice is a crime", Abraxas responded, wand still pointed at Barliman's chest. "Tampering with evidence is a crime. As a matter of fact those are serious crimes, with serious consequences."

"I'm not obstructing nothing! I haven't tampered with anything!"

"You were informed that you could not come back here while the investigation was ongoing. You were informed that to do so would not only hinder our investigation but risk charges being levied against you as well. I know that you were properly informed of these facts as well as your rights as a person of interest in this investigation. I know that because I'm the one that told you all of this. Yesterday. So", Abraxas said moving closer and aiming his wand directly between Barliman's eyes. "Answer my partner's question. What are you doing here?"

Barliman still looked angry, but he refrained from shouting. "Just tidying the place up is all. Now that this last tenant's gone bad, I was hoping to get someone new in here as soon as possible. Although I think I'll need to do a more thorough background check this time."

"You found a corpse in your cellar yesterday, you think the old tenant may have been the killer, and you're already preparing to rent this place out again?" Abraxas asked incredulously.

"I haven't been paid in six months!" Barliman exclaimed. "Property like this ain't cheap and it's damn expensive indeed when galleons are going out but they're not coming in. Plus I had to apply for Ministry permits to be allowed to place the Unplottable Charms and Muggle Repelling spells on the place. Those ain't free and I have to renew them every year! I've still got to earn a living and it's bloody difficult to get by as a landlord when nobody is paying rent."

"I hate to break it to you, Barliman, but I don't know you'll have many takers for this house after the scene we saw in the cellar", Tim said with a shiver. "Maybe you could market it as like a haunted hotel or something. 'Who's brave enough to spend the night in the murder house?' or something like that", Tim finished, wondering if he himself would be brave enough.

Barliman stroked his chin, eyes thoughtful. "You know what, kid, that's not bad. Maybe I could hire a couple ghosts to be in on it, claim to be victims, scare the guests. No building has every really tried to compete with the Shrieking Shack for the most haunted building in Britain, there may be a market for just that…"

"Barliman you are free to turn this place into a haunted house, burn it to the ground, or anything in between – after our investigation has concluded", Abraxas said. "But until it is, you are not to set foot inside this house. You shouldn't come anywhere near this house at all. As a matter of fact, you should avoid even thinking about this house at all unless you are asked a direct question about it as part of the investigation. If you do come here again, you will be arrested. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, fine", Barliman said getting to his feet. Abraxas lowered his right hand and offered Barliman the wand in his left. "No, no, you keep that. I assume you'll probably want that as part of your investigation."

"What are you talking about?" Abraxas asked. "I Disarmed you and I'm giving you your wand back. Why would your wand be relevant to our investigation?"

"Because it's not mine", Barliman said flashing another wand from the inside pocket of his robes. "I found that one", he nodded to the one in Abraxas' left hand.

Abraxas crossed the room in two steps, seized the front of Barliman's robes and hauled the smaller man off the ground. "Found it where? In this house?"

"I, I – yes", Barliman sputtered.

Abraxas heaved him onto the bed and placed his wand against Barliman's throat. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US THIS BEFORE! YOU SAID YOU'D FOUND NOTHING!"

Barliman awkwardly scrambled backward, any trace of defiance gone. "I didn't think it mattered! I didn't think you'd care!"

"WE SPECIFICALLY ASKED ABOUT WANDS!"

"I thought I could sell it, alright!" Barliman's said in an abnormally high-pitched voice. "It doesn't look like a regular wand, I thought it might be worth something!"

Abraxas looked like he might explode - his eyes were popping, his face contorted with rage. Tim crossed the room and whispered, "Abraxas, you need to calm down."

Abraxas jerked up at the sound and looked at Tim as if he was surprised he was there. He glanced down at Barliman cowering on the bed and seemed to come to his senses. Abraxas took several quick breaths, walked to the far side of the room and sat in a chair next to the window.

"Barliman", Abraxas' voice strained to stay calm. "Where exactly did you find this wand?"

Barliman was breathing heavily. He scrambled around until he was sitting up on the bed with his feet on the floor. He glanced at Tim, but Tim said nothing. "Down in – in the cellar."

"Where in the cellar? Next to the body? Inside the robes of the victim? Somewhere else?"

Barliman audibly gulped, but responded. "It was on the floor. The far side from the stairs. Underneath that green drawing of the giant wizard holding the snake."

Abraxas nodded. "Thank you. Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Barliman shook his head. "Then we will be leaving. Barliman, leave this place and go back to your home. You will be interrogated on Monday as part of this investigation. Ministry wizards will be arriving at your home to escort you to the Auror's Office. Make sure you are at home when they come," Abraxas said getting to his feet. "Otherwise, I'll have to come to looking for you. Now go."

Barliman didn't have to be told twice. He scrambled off the bed, positively ran down the stairs, and slammed the front door behind him on the way out. Tim and Abraxas watched him Disapparate from the second story window.

"Now, let's see what this wand can tell us." Abraxas turned it over in his hands, looking at it from every angle. While it was clearly identifiable as wand, Tim agreed with Barliman – it did not look like a regular wand. It had a very pronounced handle, similar to the hilt of a sword. It was also abnormally long, even if you ignored the elaborate handle. The shaft must have been a foot and a half and it was rare to see wands longer than twelve inches. Lastly, the shaft wasn't completely straight but had a slight curve to it. That, coupled with the sword-like handle, made Tim think of a scimitar.

"I've never seen a wand quite like this", Abraxas said echoing Tim's thoughts. "We'll need to take it to a wand expert for examination."

"Should we take it to an expert now?"

"Not quite yet. First, let's see the last spells this wand performed." Abraxas raised his own wand and placed it tip to tip with this strange new one. "Prior Incantato!" he said in a harsh whisper.

A green shape leapt from the tip of the wand, forming into a miniature reflection of the drawing on the wall a few floors below them: Herpo the Foul. Tim shuddered as he looked at the image of the grinning wizard holding a cobra. It was merely a shadow of the more vibrant drawing near the victim, but it was still disturbing.

"So this wand created that little part of the ritual", said Abraxas. "Let's see what else." Still pressing his own wand against the tip of the other, he made a circular motion with his wand back towards himself. Tim was reminded of a Muggle reeling in a fish. The leering green wizard vanished in a haze and was replaced by…nothing. Abraxas made the reeling motion again, but still nothing happened.

"Why can't you see the spells the wand performed before it made the picture of that snake wizard? I've seen you go through dozens of spells before."

"I don't know…" Abraxas said fixated on the joined wand tips. "But – I think – this wand has no previous spells, it's only performed one spell in its life. Someone must have used a brand-new wand to draw that green wizard." Abraxas continued to stare at the wand tips, as though there were words written there. "Very clever idea. Using new wands makes it much more difficult to identify the owner of the wand. Also, if they used a different wand for each aspect of the crime – one each for the murder, the ritual circle, the drawing – we'd need to locate all three wands. Much more difficult…" Abraxas trailed off.

Tim had an idea. "Abraxas, if they were using brand-new wands, then obviously they would have purchased them recently. Should we go to wand shops and see if any of them have record of who purchased this wand?"

"Yes", Abraxas said, finally tearing his gaze away from the wands. "Yes, we should. Let's go now", he said stowing the scimitar wand in an inside pocket of his robes. Tim was all too happy to leave this house and led the way out at once. The second they were on the street, Abraxas grabbed Tim's hand, turned on the spot, and pulled Tim through the suffocating darkness that was Apparation.

They appeared a few seconds later in the middle of a street teeming with witches and wizards. A few of them were startled by their sudden appearance, but most merely walked around the newcomers and went on about their business. Tim was facing a shop with large windows and "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" printed in vibrant gold lettering above the door.

"Diagon Alley", Tim said. "So we're going to Ollivander's."

"Best wand expert I know", Abraxas replied. The two of them joined the sea of wizards doing their weekend shopping and marched on. They soon arrived at Ollivander's but Tim's eye was drawn to the huge marble building in the distance. Gringotts looked as whole and impressive as ever, with no sign whatsoever that a dragon had once crashed through the roof and destroyed most of the first floor. To think the goblins still held a grudge when the bank, and the building itself, was still considered a hallmark of magical life in Britain. Tim shook his head and followed Abraxas into Ollivander's.

The place looked much as it had the only other time Tim had been in here, when he purchased his own wand some dozen years before. Dozens and dozens of narrow boxes were stacked nearly to the ceiling. A single wooden chair sat in the corner and there was no counter or desk. A bell had sounded when they walked in and a voice from somewhere in the forest of boxes shouted, "Be with you in a minute!"

Tim remembered his first visit vividly. "The wand chooses the wizard" Ollivander had said. That had made Tim very nervous – what if none of the wands wanted to choose him? But he had gotten his wand – a shower of gold sparks emitted from the second wand he tried and he had left the shop bursting with joy. But now he thought about the mountain of wands in front him. Presumably, none of them had chosen their wizard. Did Ollivander just keep them here forever until they finally found their match? And what would a wizard do if none of the wands here were a match for him? Wand lore always confused him. Then again, his wand worked well enough, so why should he fret over it?

"Good morning" said a figure emerging from the labyrinth of unsold wands. He was a very old man, with pale watery eyes.

"Good morning, Mr. Ollivander", said Abraxas. "Do you have a moment? My colleague and I were hoping you could assist us with an Auror investigation."

"Ah!" Ollivander said, clapping his hands together. "Abraxas Nigellus. How is your wand treating you? Rowan and dragon heartstring, is it not? Eleven inches, rather rigid. I must say it is a match I was quite proud of, Rowan wands are very temperamental and sometimes take years to select a wizard." His eyes then moved to Tim. "Timothy Gladstone! I take it your wand is performing up to standards as well? Sycamore and unicorn tail, nine and a half inches and fairly flexible."

Abraxas smiled. "I assure you that our wands are in fine order, Mr. Ollivander, and what you've just said makes me certain that we've come to the right man." Abraxas reached into his robes and pulled out the scimitar wand. "We found this at a crime scene and we need to know everything you can tell us about it. The wand has only performed one spell, so we think it may have been purchased recently. Is this one of yours? If so, we need to know who bought it."

Ollivander took the wand and put on his glasses. He turned it over in his hands and peered at it closely. He spent a few minutes examining it, but not in ways Tim would have expected. Rather than using a spell from his own wand, Ollivander examined the wand physically: running his hands over it, pressing the wand to his cheek, even sniffing it.

"Mr. Nigellus, I can assure you that I did not sell this wand. As a matter of fact, I doubt any wandmaker has ever sold this wand. This is either an imitation or it is a very, very old wand indeed. A few tests should reveal the truth, however."

Ollivander waved his own wand and a workbench came flying from the depths of the shop. It was far too large to fit down the narrow walkway between the stacks of wand boxes, but the boxes simply moved out of the way to let the workbench pass and then returned to their original place. The bench dropped in front of Ollivander and was covered with a variety of instruments from magnifying glasses to carving implements.

He cleared a space and placed the wand at the center of the workbench. He didn't say a word for the next fifteen minutes. He looked at the wand under the magnifying glass, blasted it with several different colors of smoke, and compared the wand to several wood samples he had in the shop. Finally, he pulled out a startlingly white hair that Tim recognized as unicorn. Ollivander twined the hair around the wand and muttered an incantation under his breath. The wand glowed a bright baby blue.

Ollivander stood up and stared at the wand in fascination. "Well there is no doubt. This wand is genuine. I don't know how you got it – left at a crime scene you said? Most troublesome, most troublesome indeed."

"Sorry, Mr. Ollivander, but can you elaborate. This wand is a genuine what? If this isn't one of yours, how can you recognize it?"

"This is the Wand of Zeus", Ollivander said. "I've never seen it in person before, but its appearance is famous among wandmakers. Some have attempted to copy it, but I really don't see the point in doing so, considering its status for the last several centuries."

Tim and Abraxas shared a look that told him Abraxas had no idea what the hell Ollivander was talking about either. "Mr. Ollivander, I've never studied wand lore. You're going to have to explain this a lot more. What is the Wand of Zeus?"

"You've never heard of it? My, my what do they teach in Hogwarts these days", Ollivander clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Muggles in ancient Greece did not understand the existence wizards and believed they were gods. They mythologized them. Named them Zeus, Athena, Ares and so on. One wizard in particular was believed by the local muggles to be Zeus himself. They had seen him somewhat frequently and he spoke with their leaders.

"However, whether it was his birth name and the Muggles adopted it or the other way around, this wizard was known as Zeus, even in the magical community. He was a very impressive individual and ultimately became king of several Greek city-states. He is seen as a national hero, much like Merlin here in Britain. When he died he passed the wand down to his son, who succeeded him as king. And the son did the same at his death. And so it has gone on for generations since. This wand belongs to the ruler of Greece, and has so for over 2000 years.

"Even now, with Greece's government organized as a Ministry of Magic much like our own, this wand is passed to every new Minister. It is Greece's most famous and most valued magical artifact. Kept intact and working for over 2000 years, from back when Greece was among the world's preeminent powers."

Ollivander took a deep breath. "The distinctive shape and design are well known – no one makes wands that look like this anymore, with the ornate handle and the specific curvature of the shaft. This wand is made of cypress, trees that are native to Greece and can themselves live for up to a thousand years." Ollivander smiled. "It's functional as well as symbolic, you see. The wood from a nearly immortal tree representing Greece's eternal power. The core is the hair of a Pegasus. Similar both magically and biologically to a unicorn, but even rarer and, of course, native to Greece."

Tim's head was spinning but Abraxas took all of this in in stride. "So you're telling me that this wand is priceless and belongs to the Greek Minister of Magic?"

Ollivander bowed his head. "That is indeed what I am telling you. I do not know the Greek Minister personally, but I have to imagine he would be most distraught at the loss of such an object."

Abraxas drummed his fingers on the edge of the workbench. "Wait something doesn't make sense. This wand is apparently thousands of years old, yet it's only ever performed one spell. That was cast yesterday. Priori Incantatem revealed nothing else. If this truly was owned all this time, surely it would've been used thousands, hell millions, of times over the centuries."

"As to that I can only speculate", said Ollivander. "Wands have memories, similar to a person. They remember people, they remember spells – but that means they can forget as well. This wand in particular, was treated as an artifact rather than as a functioning wand. History tells us that this wand was used by the descendants of Zeus, but some thousand years ago they changed course – it became a symbol, an heirloom, rather than the ruler's primary wand. Displayed but not used. My guess is that, at some point, this wand refused to work with the current ruler. The wand chooses the wizard, that has always been true. And any wizard would be foolish to attempt to force his magic through an unwilling wand. "Retiring" this wand would certainly be a way to save face, rather than admitting it refused to bend to his will. Whatever the reason, Greece's official policy for the last several centuries is that this wand was not to be used. As a result, I don't think this wand has cast a spell in nearly a thousand years. Do you really expect a wand to remember spells it cast a thousand years ago?"

Abraxas shared another befuddled look with Tim. "Mr. Ollivander, I, err – this was not the answer I was expecting. Are you sure about all this?"

Ollivander nodded. "This is the Wand of Zeus, I'm positive about that."

"Would you be willing to provide testimony in front of the Wizengamot, saying…well, saying exactly what you've just said?"

He nodded again. "Of course. And I am most curious to hear how this wand ended up at a crime scene in Britain. Most curious indeed."

"We're curious about that ourselves", Abraxas said with a grim smile. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Ollivander. We'll be in touch." Mr. Ollivander gave them a bow and the two Aurors left the shop.

Abraxas put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "We need to head to the Ministry at once. I'll enter this into evidence", he said patting his cloak pocket. "You send an owl to Potter telling him everything Ollivander just told us. Tell no one else about this – we could have an international incident on our hands here. We need to be very careful how we proceed." Tim nodded and clasped Abraxas' hand and the two of them turned on the spot and vanished.