The Corpse Wore Toilet Paper by lucky_black_cat



Summary: ** Winner of Best Overall in the Hogwarts Express Challenge **
When the corpse of a Death Eater is found in the bathroom, aboard the Hogwarts Express, it will take inter-house to cooperation to solve the murder, and save Ginny's life along the way.
Rating: PG-13 starstarstarstarstar
Categories: Hogwarts Express Challenge (2006-3)
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2006.06.30
Updated: 2006.06.30


Index

Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter 2: Chapter 1
Chapter 3: Chapter 2
Chapter 4: Chapter 3
Chapter 5: Chapter 4


Chapter 1: Prologue

Author's Notes: A huge thanks to Spenser Hemmingway (Eric) who beta'd this for me in a blink. I owe you one!


Prologue



A pair of emerald green eyes stared unseeingly out of the window of the small compartment. Barely an inch separated those eyes from the rain that was falling heavily outside, not letting the stragglers walk peacefully towards the scarlet engine. Harry watched the silhouette of the old castle that rose magnificently in the horizon, jealously guarded by the trees that formed the Forbidden Forest. This area of the school grounds was out of bounds for the students (as its name indicated), but as always, forbidden things are far more attractive than what you are allowed to have. The treetops swayed slowly in the wind, the same wind that whipped the hair and robes of the students outside as they ran to get into the warm safety of the train as soon as possible. It was this feeling of apparent safety that reigned in Harry’s emerald eyes as they observed the dark grey clouds that covered the sky like a heavy blanket of darkness.

“Five minutes, Ron,” the bushy-haired witch called Hermione said to her friend. “Five minutes.”

“Right, five minutes,” Ron repeated tonelessly, his hands fiddling with the hem of his jumper as he, too, looked out of the window.

A whistle sounded in the distance as the last students hurried to hoist their luggage onto the train. A nervous-looking young boy jumped on seconds before the Hogwarts Express left Hogsmeade Station with a mighty roar. Harry felt a sudden urge to close his eyes and cling to the moment, cling to the image of Hogwarts disappearing in the distance, until it became a blissful memory. Soon however, Hogwarts was completely out of view, and the three friends knew it was gone, and they might not see it again in a long time. Refusing to dwell on the grief for a moment longer, Harry spoke up.

“Who’s replacing Malfoy as the Slytherin Prefect?” he asked.

“Nott,” Hermione answered instantly.

“Do you reckon it’s an improvement?”

“I don’t know, he’s hard to read, but I have a feeling he’s trustworthy.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “A trustworthy Slytherin? Get real, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned at him. “Just because Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson aren’t what you’d call respectable, it doesn’t mean that all Slytherins are bad.” Ron snorted derisively. Hermione’s frown became more pronounced. “And for your information, Ron, Nott’s got the best grades in all of Slytherin,” she added with a small satisfied smile, as if that settled the matter.

Surprisingly, Ron didn’t retort. Instead, he turned to Harry. “Speaking of Parkinson,” he said, “what did she want with you earlier?”

Harry frowned slightly, remembering when he, Ron and Hermione had gotten on the train, about half an hour earlier. Pansy Parkinson had approached them without a trace of her usual proud demeanour, and had politely asked to have a word with Harry.

“It was…” Harry searched his mind for the perfect word to describe the conversation, “strange. She asked for forgiveness.” He frowned, slightly confused, as he tried to decipher the meaning of Pansy’s words. “She told me she didn’t want to end up like Draco. That she had realized that serving Voldemort is not guarantee of safety…”

“Do you believe her?” Hermione asked quietly, her brown eyes peering at Harry.

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “No. Not yet, anyway. She will have to prove that we can trust her. But this way I can keep a closer eye on her, and decide if she’s telling the truth.”

“Well thought,” Hermione approved, nodding.

The sound of thunder made them all look out of the window instinctively. If it had been raining before, it was nothing compared to now — Harry could barely distinguish the landscape through the heavy curtain of water. He closed his eyes, imagining that all his problems were being washed away by the rain, imagining that everything would be all right and he would wake up and find that Ginny was still with him, and his greatest worry was how to deal with the reactions of his girlfriend’s six elder brothers. He didn’t know how long he had stayed like that, but when he opened his eyes, he found that Ron and Hermione had already gone to the Prefects carriage, to receive instructions from the Head Boy and Girl, as usual.

Harry reached out with his hand and pressed it against the window. The glass felt cold as ice against the warm skin of his palm, but he found the sensation oddly relaxing and satisfying. He checked his watch without withdrawing his hand — a quarter past eleven. With the rain splattering on the window like a soothing mantra for his mind, Harry closed his eyes, and not long after was immersed in a peaceful slumber.

****


Parvati Patil wrung out her long dark hair with her hands. Water dripped from it and made a small pool on the floor of the train. “Stupid British weather,” she fumed. “I spend three hours fixing my hair this morning — and now this.”

Her blonde friend sighed in agreement. “You’re telling me,” Lavender frowned, taking out a small pocket-mirror and checking herself in it. “My make-up’s all ruined.”

Parvati started rummaging in her robes. Lavender turned to look at her and grinned when the Indian girl took out a small bag full of foundation, lipstick and eye shadow.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Lavender smiled, taking the bag from Parvati.

“What are friends for?” Parvati winked at her and started walking towards the bathroom, at the back of the train. “Come on!” she called to Lavender, who quickly stuffed the make-up in her pocket and followed.

“So,” Parvati began, smiling. “What’s going on between you and Seamus?”

Lavender let out a brainless giggle. “Well,” she said, twirling a strand of hair in her finger, “he said that he’s fancied me for ages, but he never really had the nerve to ask me until now.”

Parvati giggled girlishly. “And he’s quite good-looking, isn’t he, definitely a good catch,” she nodded. “What did you say to him?”

Lavender smiled naughtily at Parvati as they stopped in front of the bathroom. “What do you think?”

“You’re so…” Parvati began, but stopped mid-sentence and frowned. “The door’s not opening.”

“Let me,” Lavender frowned, and turned the knob the way Parvati had, but the door remained firmly closed.

“Someone must have locked it,” Parvati muttered, resting her body against the door and pushing tentatively. It didn’t budge. Frowning, she took out her wand and, pointing it at the lock, muttered, “Alohomora!”

The door opened with a soft click. Satisfied, Parvati pushed it and stepped inside.

“I told Seamus that…” Lavender began, going in after Parvati, but she shut up as Parvati came to halt suddenly, causing the blonde witch to walk into her. “Parvati, what the…”

The Indian witch didn’t answer. Her normally dark skin was very pale, her mouth hung slightly open and her dark eyes were wide as saucers with shock and fear. She stood frozen, looking at a dark figure that lay against the wall. Lavender followed her gaze and let out an ear-splitting scream.

There was a dead body in the bathroom.

Back to index


Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Chapter 1



Harry opened his eyes slowly, smiling. He had dreamed that he found a sphinx when he was walking in the Weasleys’ backyard, and the sphinx asked him a riddle. As a reward for answering it correctly, the sphinx had offered him having whatever he wished, and he had asked for Ginny to spend the rest of her life with him. Seconds later, Ginny had walked into the dream, thrown her arms around him and kissed him with a passion that swept him off his feet. He grinned. He could still smell the flowery scent of her hair…

Harry felt something moving next to him, and looked to see what it was. He did a double take when he realised that the reason he could smell Ginny was because Ginny herself was leaning against him, fast asleep. Harry didn’t know what to do. Should he wake her? She looked so peaceful sleeping there, that he didn’t have the heart to do it. He couldn’t let her sleep though — what if Ron or Hermione returned? He was curious as to what Ginny was doing there… he hadn’t seen her since breakfast, and even then she had sat with her friends, in the opposite corner of the Gryffindor Table. Harry doubted two hours would have been enough to make her feel comfortable enough around him to fall asleep on him. However, he felt that he didn’t mind at all.

Harry stiffened when he heard his best friends’ voices coming from the doorway.

“So insensitive, Ron, how could you say that to her?”

“Well, she did look crazy with that horrible onion on top of her head —”

Harry checked his watch — only half an hour into the train ride and they were already bickering. He reckoned they might have set a record.

“Yes, I know, but still, it’s a bit rude to —”

Hermione’s reprimand was drowned by a scream — a scream so helpless and terrified that made the hairs on Harry’s neck stand on end. It came from the bathroom. What had happened? Was Voldemort there? Were there Death Eaters in the train?

“What was that?” he heard Ron ask, his voice wavering.

“Let’s go,” whispered Hermione, who sounded no less afraid. Their footsteps faded away as they ran towards the source of the noise.

Harry looked down at Ginny who, surprisingly, was still sleeping. How could he leave without waking her? As he struggled to get out from beneath her, he noticed it. Ginny’s skin was very pale, almost transparent, and her freckles stood out vividly against it. Her hair was darker too — not the usual fierce red. Instead, it was auburn. Harry worried. What was wrong with her?

“Ginny,” he shook her slightly, trying to wake her. “Ginny, Gin, wake up.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding when he felt her stirring against him. Slowly, she opened one eye and started when she saw Harry looking down at her.

“What — what are you doing here?” she stuttered nervously.

“I fell asleep, and when I woke up, you were asleep on me,” Harry answered, unable to stop the smile that was dancing on his lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep — I was only looking out of the window, I must have dozed off…” Ginny blushed slightly, straightening her robes.

“There’s no reason to apologize, it’s quite all right,” Harry calmed her. “I have to go now though — I want to have a look around,” he lied. He knew if he told Ginny something had happened, she would want to go with him, and right now, she needed some rest, by the looks of her.

“Oh, ok,” Ginny nodded, smiling weakly. “I think I’ll just stay here…” she yawned.

Harry smiled, nodded and got up. Before he had left the compartment, Ginny had fallen asleep again.

****


“Make way! I’m a Prefect! Make way!” Ron shouted, pushing aside the students that had formed a crowd in front of the bathroom.

“Go back to your compartments!” Hermione ordered, going through right after Ron.

However, nobody seemed to want to move. The students stood there, trying to get a good peek of what was going on inside the bathroom. Finally, Ron and Hermione managed to get inside just as the Head Boy and Girl and the other Prefects arrived at the scene.

The first thing they saw was Lavender standing as close as she could get to the wall, her expression completely horror-struck, and Parvati, who seemed frozen in place. Ron and Hermione looked at the spot the girls were looking, and both gasped in unison. Leaning against the wall opposite from the cubicles was a body dressed in black robes, and the wall was splashed with a scarlet fluid that was, without a doubt, blood.

“Oh my God,” Hermione breathed, her eyes wide. “It’s a dead body.”

“What happened?” asked Jake Brighton, the Head Boy, walking into the bathroom. “What’s going on here?” He stopped short when he saw the body lying there, and his eyes widened. “Oh my God… There’s a dead person on the train.”

His words echoed in the bathroom and carried to the students and the other Prefects, who were standing in the threshold. “Who is it?” asked Ebba Summers, the Head Girl.

“We don’t know,” answered Parvati, her voice faltering. “We haven’t touched the body, we swear!”

Ebba nodded and, after a brief look at Jake, said, “I think someone should get Harry Potter.”

The level of whispering among the students increased as someone pushed his way through them. “Excuse me, excuse me. Please, go to your compartments…”

“Harry, thank God you’re here!” Hermione walked towards the door and brought him in. His eyes travelled from Parvati and Lavender (who were now being calmed by Dean and Seamus respectively) to Jake and Ebba (who were looking at him with a mixture of relief and respect).

“What happened? Who screamed?” he asked Hermione, but he didn’t need her to answer. He had just seen the corpse on the floor. He took a deep breath to calm the shock. “Did any of you touch it?”

Everyone shook their heads. “Very well,” Harry nodded. “It’s… twenty-five to twelve. We’ll arrive at Kings’ Cross Station at about half past five, which means that we’ll have to spend nearly seven hours in the same train as the murderer.” A shiver carried through the group. “Unless we catch the murderer, that is.” Harry finished, looking at the corpse, his jaw set.

Jake Brighton took a step forward. “Harry…”

“Yeah?” Harry looked away from the body and turned his eyes on the seventh year Ravenclaw.

“You’ve got the most experience with Death Eaters. Why don’t you lead the investigation?”

“Me?” Harry repeated, taken off guard. Everyone in the room made small noises of agreement or nodded.

“We’re at your service,” intervened Ebba.

“You can do it,” Ron nodded.

Harry looked at their determined faces and realised that they were all putting their trust in him. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll do it,” he said. Everyone grinned in relief. “First things first then… let’s see who we have here.”

Harry walked towards the dead body and sat on tenterhooks in front of it. He could feel the tension in the atmosphere as everyone held their breaths. “The killer must have put the Death Eater’s hood back on, otherwise it would have been impossible for the walls to be splashed with blood,” he observed. “This way, I can’t see the victim’s face unless I push back the hood; the murderer wanted to hide the Death Eater’s face. It’s a sign of regret…of shame.”

Harry reached out with his hand and drew back the hood. Long black hair framed a thin female face with naughty features, in which the traces of wasted beauty could be distinguished. Her pale skin seemed to shine against the black of her robes, and Harry remained looking at her for several seconds, while his brain processed the information.

“Oh my God… It’s that Lestrange woman!” exclaimed Jake, coming forward to get a clearer view.

“Jake, Ebba,” Harry spoke, still staring at Bellatrix’s face. “Make sure there’s no way anyone can get on or off of the train. Try to keep people inside their compartments. You can get the other Prefects to help you, and please don’t spread the news around. If the murderer doesn’t know yet that we’ve discovered the body, it would be better to keep them in the dark.”

“We’ll do that,” nodded Ebba, attempting a reassuring smile. “I’ll also get someone to stand guard on the bathroom door, so nobody can disturb you.”

“Thanks a lot,” Harry smiled at her. Once the two had left and it was only Harry, Ron and Hermione in the bathroom, the former started pacing up and down, thinking.

“Who killed her?” Ron mused aloud, looking at Bella’s pale face. “Not that I regret she’s dead…”

“I don’t regret it either,” Harry answered truthfully, looking at Bella with something close to disgust. “And the question is not who… but how.”

Hermione walked towards the corpse and examined the back of Bella’s head carefully. “Mortal blow to the head. This is where all the blood comes from… she probably hit her head with the wall.”

“Well observed, though that’s not what I meant,” Harry said, walking towards Bella to see her head himself. “To receive such a fatal blow, she must have hit herself pretty hard… I reckon they banished her against the wall. But the strongest Banishing Spell I’ve seen only knocked the victim out cold.”

“What are you getting at?” Ron asked, his eyes slightly narrowed as he thought about the possibilities.

“Whoever cast the Spell has to be very powerful...” Hermione muttered.

“Either that or they were feeling very strong emotions when they cast the Spell,” Harry nodded. “A person’s magical potential is increased by fear, hatred, fury, passion…”

“Well, in spite of that, I don’t reckon the younger students could have done this,” Ron said.

“I agree,” Harry replied. “That reduces our suspect list… we only have to care about fifth, sixth and seventh years.”

“That makes it easier, then,” Hermione let out a sigh of relief. “I believe we could actually do this before we get to King’s Cross.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “I think so. Now let’s collect the clues. Remember, every little thing can be evidence — if you find anything, just put it inside a bag, ok?”

The other two nodded and they separated to examine the scene. One of the things that Harry noticed was that some tiles from the walls were shattered or had scorch marks on them. The mirror above one of the washbasins was broken, as well. “There was a duel going on in here,” Harry observed aloud, so that the other two would hear him. “Those are the marks the jets of the spells left.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione nodded. “Her wand is still in her hand. Maybe she was attacked before she had time to finish her spell.”

“That’s almost impossible, though,” Harry frowned. “She’s a very good dueller…”

“I got something!” Ron called. He was searching Bella’s robes, and was now holding a flask full of a very thick potion.

Hermione walked towards him instantly and took the vial in her hands. After examining it a couple of seconds, she declared it Polyjuice Potion. “It’s not finished, though,” she added.

“What do you mean, it’s not finished?” Harry inquired, walking towards her. “To me it smells as foul as it did in second year.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, but look at the colour. It still looks like dark mud. It’s supposed to change when the last ingredient has been added, which means…”

“That Bellatrix still needed a bit from the person she wanted to turn into,” Harry finished for her, catching onto her train of thought.

“Or maybe she already had it,” suggested Ron, “and she came here to transform. However, when she arrived, someone was here already, and there was a duel. She didn’t have time to add the final ingredient to the potion.”

“That could very well be the case,” Harry said. “But there’s something that doesn’t make sense — it doesn’t take that much to add a couple of hairs to the potion. And besides, there weren’t any hairs on her robes, were they?”

“No,” admitted Ron, sounding a bit crestfallen. “There weren’t.”

“So what happened here?” Hermione muttered absent-mindedly, looking at Bellatrix.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered truthfully. “I’d say whoever attacked her came out from one of the cubicles — if you look at her, she’s lying opposite them.”

“Right, so… maybe her attacker went out of the cubicle when Bella came in, they duelled and in the end the killer blasted Bella against the wall?”

“It’s very possible,” Harry agreed. “The scorch marks that are away from the line of fire could be the result of spells that missed.”

“So… we are looking for someone who is in their fifth year or above, who is powerfully magical, or very temperamental, who could have been here sometime from the moment the students started boarding to the moment the body was discovered at half past eleven,” Ron summarized. He ran a hand through his hair. “Blimey, it’s not going to be so easy.”

“I think we should start by talking to some people,” Harry indicated. “We might get some extra information. Ron, find Ebba and Jake and tell them to find all fifth, sixth and seventh years and get them inside the largest compartment they can find. Enlarge one if necessary. I’m going to have to interview everyone. Oh, and Hermione… do you trust Nott?”

“Yes,” she answered without blinking. Neither she nor Harry saw Ron shaking his head.

“Then get him,” said Harry. “Tell him I need his help.”

Back to index


Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Chapter 2



After all fifth years and above had been asked to move into Compartment C (which was, with difference, the largest in the train) and had declared themselves as comfortable as it was possible to be in such a situation, Harry had decided to get on with the interviews. He had enlarged the adjoining compartment until it became spacious enough for a wooden desk, six chairs and six people. While the conjuring of the furniture had been Hermione’s doing, the idea of asking Theodore Nott to help with the investigation had been all Harry’s, and now he was paying for it with Ron’s uninterrupted flow of complaints.

“I don’t know why you two trust him,” Ron muttered yet again after the thirteenth interview. “How do you know he’s not involved in this?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“For your information, Weasley, I have an alibi. You would have realised if you’d cared to notice who was taking Malfoy’s post as a Prefect,” Nott answered laconically.

“Yes, well,” Ron admitted, a bit disgruntled. “But what about earlier? How do I know you didn’t do it before the Prefects’ meeting, huh?” Ron seemed very proud of himself for finding a loophole in Nott’s alibi.

“I saw him board on the train two minutes before we left Hogsmeade Station,” Harry explained in a bored voice. “And the meeting started when we left, at eleven o’clock sharp. He wouldn’t have had time to do it.”

“Though I am very honoured that you should think so highly of my duelling abilities,” Nott sneered.

Ron grunted again and crossed his arms. “Oh, really, I never said…”

“For Merlin’s sake, Ron, just leave it already, he didn’t do it!” Hermione spat, completely exasperated.

“Alright, so he’s innocent! There are dozens of innocent people in this train! So why does it have to be him?”

“When you’re dealing with an affair as low and dirty as this, you need someone who’s used to living underground,” Nott answered philosophically. “But if you’d rather it was another Slytherin… I can hear Pansy screeching from here.” Nott nodded in the direction of the wall that separated them from Compartment C; from where Pansy’s unpleasant voice could be heard complaining loudly.

Ron kept grunting disconnected sentences under his breath. Harry sighed and shook his head before turning to look at the papers on his desk. One of them was a list of the names of all fifth years and above, which they were using to keep track of the people they interviewed, and the other was a map of the compartments of the train, which Dean Thomas had provided them shortly after making sure Parvati was all right.

“Ok,” Harry spoke up, crossing out Colin Creevey’s name in the list. “Who now, d’you reckon?”

Nott stood behind Harry’s chair and checked the list over his shoulder. He pondered for a moment and then said, “What about the Longbottom boy?”

Ron snorted derisively. “Neville? Please, don’t make me laugh. I’ve seen Bellatrix duel, and I’ve seen Neville duel, and there’s a huge difference. There’s no way he could have done it.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Harry agreed, completely ignoring Ron. “Won’t you call him, Hermione, please?” Once she had gone out, Harry turned to Ron and said, “I don’t believe he did it either, Ron, but he had a reason to want Bellatrix dead, and I want to hear anything he’s got to say on the matter.”

In that moment, Hermione reappeared through the door, Neville in tow. He looked at each of them a bit anxiously, and kept rubbing his hands together to keep them from shaking. Though he seemed to calm down a bit when Harry smiled at him and asked him to sit down, he didn’t look completely comfortable.

“Neville,” Harry asked kindly. “Did you hear what happened?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered. “I heard someone’s been killed. A-a Death Eater, they say.”

“They’re right,” Nott nodded. “Do you know the identity of the victim?” Neville shook his head no, all the while watching Nott with something akin to apprehension. “Bellatrix Lestrange, Longbottom. Ring a bell?”

Neville’s eyes widened in terror and he gasped. “I didn’t know it was her,” he breathed.

“Do you have any idea who might have done it?” Harry asked conversationally.

“No. Not me,” Neville replied, and then added something else under his breath.

“What was that?” Nott asked, raising his eyebrows.

Neville looked at Nott and, taking a deep breath, answered, “I said, I wish it had been me.” He let out a nervous laugh. Nott smiled, and this friendly gesture from the Slytherin seemed to soothe Neville a bit more.

“Neville, at what time did you board on the train?” Harry asked kindly.

“Less than five minutes before we left Hogsmeade,” Neville answered.

“Where did you go once you got on the train?”

Neville blushed faintly. “I was with Luna.”

“Luna Lovegood? Ravenclaw fifth year?” Nott asked suddenly. Neville answered yes, and Nott nodded briefly.

“What compartment were you in, Neville?” Harry asked, turning the map over to Neville so he could see it.

“This one,” Neville reached out to point the compartment that was nearest the bathroom.

“Did you hear anything unusual?” Nott asked interestedly, leaning forward to show Neville that he had his attention.

“No,” Neville shook his head. “Not a thing. Not even a voice. First notice we had was when Lavender screamed.”

“Was anyone else with you in that compartment?” Harry asked.

“No,” Neville answered, flushing again. “We were alone.”

“That’s all, Neville. Thanks a lot,” Harry told him with a smile. “You may go.”

Neville nodded, got up and walked out of the compartment.

“I think,” Harry announced, “that we can be certain that Neville didn’t do it.”

“Just what I told you before he arrived,” Ron nodded. “He couldn’t have done it; he’s not such a good dueller.”

“I’m not talking only about that,” Harry replied, scratching Neville’s name off the suspect list. “Didn’t you hear what he said? He said he wished he had killed her. He was honest with us. If he had been guilty, he wouldn’t have admitted his desire for revenge so readily.”

Nott grinned. “You’re a smart one, Potter. And to think that you ended up in Gryffindor...” He shook his head in disbelief.

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes. Nott glared at him, as if daring him to say something, but he didn’t.

“There was something else that called my attention,” Harry said to the others. “He said they didn’t hear a thing, and they were next to the bathroom.”

“Maybe he lied,” suggested Ron. “Maybe he wasn’t paying attention to anything but Luna, and didn’t want to admit it.”

“Or maybe someone put Imperturbable and Silencing Charms on the bathroom so nobody outside would know what was going on,” Harry suggested.

“That makes sense,” nodded Nott. “They probably locked the door as they went out, too.”

“Well, it would be stupid to check everyone’s wands for locking spells,” said Hermione, “because some people lock their compartments so they won’t be disturbed.”

“That’s true. The Slytherin compartment is always locked by a charm that only a Slytherin can open. Well, a Slytherin and anyone a Slytherin lets in on the knowledge, of course,” Nott answered, sitting down on Harry’s left.

“Who’s next?” asked Ron, walking forward to see the list.

“What about Ginny?” Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded. “I’ll go get her.”

In no time, Hermione was back carrying Ginny. Once again, like before, Harry was caught off guard by her weak appearance. Her skin, normally creamy and soft, looked as if it was withering before their very eyes, and the heaviness in her movements was alarming. Harry got up and helped her to a chair, in which she remained unmoving, grateful for the rest. Her hair, he noted, was even darker than before, and she seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open. Immediately after sitting down, she brought a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, as if trying to chase away a headache.

“Ginny, are you feeling all right?” Harry heard himself ask concernedly.

“She’s been looking off-colour all day,” Ron chimed in before his sister had time to answer herself.

Nott took a seat beside the youngest Weasley. “Your hair isn’t normally this shade, is it, Ginny?” Nott asked concernedly, surprising everyone through his use of her first name.

“No… it’s brighter, bright red,” Ginny answered, and Harry was alarmed at the sound of her voice, weak and tired.

“Can I have a word with you, Hermione?” Nott asked unexpectedly, looking at the bushy-haired witch. She nodded and both went out of the compartment. Instants later, Nott came back in, and Hermione disappeared down the corridor toward the compartment that the Slytherins usually occupied. Harry did not comment, nor did Ron — they just looked at Nott, who gave a reassuring nod and took a seat beside Ginny, watching her critically. Ginny did not seem to be bothered by him — instead, it looked like she trusted him, because she seemed ready to doze off at any moment.

“Are you sleepy, Ginny?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ginny replied, rubbing her eyes. “A lot… I’ve fallen asleep twice already, I haven’t been able to help it… And it’s strange, ‘cause I slept twelve hours last night.”

“Did you hear Lavender scream earlier, Ginny?” Harry asked quietly, locking his gaze with hers.

“No,” Ginny answered, frowning in confusion. She supported her head with her hand and looked at Harry lazily; her usual sparkle gone as if it had never been there.

“What did you eat for breakfast?” Nott asked suddenly.

Harry and Ron both raised their eyebrows at the unusual question, but Ginny didn’t show signs of shock or surprise. She just answered in a toneless voice that she had taken toast and pumpkin juice.

“Were you feeling like this before breakfast?” Nott asked again.

“Now that you mention it… no,” Ginny replied, frowning a bit.

Harry caught onto Nott’s train of thought and asked what he knew was going to be the Slytherin’s next question. “Did anything unusual happen at breakfast? Did your food taste different from usual?”

“Not at all,” Ginny answered. “Only strange thing was… that Parkinson girl came from the Slytherin table to talk to me.”

This got everyone’s attention at once. “What did she want?” Harry asked instantly, remembering his own encounter with the Slytherin.

“She gave me some crap about forgetting old differences and fighting together. I thought she must be pulling my leg,” Ginny chuckled faintly.

“Ginny, do you think it’s possible that she slipped you something when you weren’t looking?” Harry asked, worried.

“I suppose she could have,” Ginny answered, and yawned. Barely seconds later, she was asleep.

****


Hermione walked ahead, further down the train. She walked as fast as her legs would let her, wishing that nobody would see her there. Even though she knew that all the older Slytherins were far away from here, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. Eventually she looked behind her, to see if she was being followed. A couple of times she thought she caught a glimpse of someone hiding from her view, but she discarded this as paranoia. Hermione knew she was being stupid — after all, what could happen to her inside the Hogwarts Express? If she hurried, nobody had to know she had been there.

Finally she reached the compartment with a huge ‘S’ painted on the door. She looked to her right and left and, after making sure the coast was clear, took out her wand and muttered the incantation that Theodore had taught her moments ago. She just hoped she could make it work. With a triumphant gleam in her eyes, Hermione heard the door click open. She grinned and went into the compartment, closing the door after her.

Hermione looked around and gasped. There were more than a dozen trunks here! How was she supposed to search them all? She took a deep breath and started looking at the labels they wore. Blaise Zabini… Theodore Nott… Vincent Crabbe… Gregory Goyle… Pansy Parkinson. Hermione smirked. She’d start with Parkinson — she was curious about her, and besides, she wanted to see if she could find anything that told her Pansy wasn’t really on their side.

A quick Alohomora and the trunk lid opened. Hermione started rummaging through it. Old newspapers… clothes… Potions ingredients that Hermione couldn’t recognise… And then, she saw it. A small vial half-full of a colourless potion that smelled strongly of something that would be very valuable for the investigation. Without thinking it twice, Hermione stuffed it inside her robes and continued searching, so immersed in what she was doing that she didn’t hear someone coming in behind her until it was too late to escape.

“What do you think you’re doing?” snarled a voice in her ear. Hermione stiffened as she felt a wand tip digging into her back.

“N-Nothing,” Hermione muttered, wishing fervently that her attacker would believe her lame answer.

The other person laughed. “Why should I believe that?” was the response. “You’re just a filthy, worthless Mudblood.”

“I haven’t taken anything…”

“I’ll have to believe you this time… I’m not going to touch you. I don’t want to get my hands dirty. But just in case… Stupe-

Stupefy!” shouted a different voice from the doorway. Hermione remained frozen, her heart beating frantically in her chest. She closed her eyes in an attempt to calm down.

“The stupid hag,” Nott snarled, looking at the Stunned Pansy with disgust etched on his haughty features. “Are you ok, Hermione?” he asked, sitting down next to Hermione, who immediately hugged him fiercely. Nott started, taken off guard, but patted her back slightly.

“I thought she was going to kill me,” Hermione whispered, her voice quavering. “I thought she was someone else.”

Nott patted her head a bit awkwardly. “Nah, it’s that stupid charm she uses to modify her voice. It has a good side, though — one’s ears get tired of her usual screeching after a while.”

Hermione chuckled nervously and let him go. “Thanks, Theodore,” she smiled at him. “But… how did you know something would happen to me?”

“Your dear friend Ronald decided that he wouldn’t subject himself to the task of going from one compartment to the other to call in the witnesses, so I had to do it myself. When I went to call Luna Lovegood to check Neville’s alibi, I realised Pansy wasn’t in the compartment, and thought I should warn you,” Nott explained. “So, did you find anything?”

“A potion,” Hermione answered, taking out the vial. “Though I don’t recognise it.”

Nott took the vial from her, uncorked it and smelled it. “This explains a lot,” he muttered, a sombre expression on his face. “We need to get back to the others. I’ll explain later,” he added, noticing Hermione’s curious look.

They got up and walked towards the door. When Nott was about to go out, Hermione called him. “Wait,” she said. “Shouldn’t we take her with us?” she asked, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the unconscious Pansy.

“If it depended on me, I’d feed her to Hagrid’s Skrewts,” Nott replied. “But, unfortunately, it doesn't. Besides, I’m quite curious as to what she has to say…” He sighed in defeat and with a wave of his wand, levitated Pansy’s body into the air.

Back to index


Chapter 4: Chapter 3

Author's Notes: A small disclaimer: Thanks to Spenser Hemmingway for the beta work and for letting me use the curse he invented, Tempus Fugit. He's got a fic with that same name, and it's completely awesome, so check it out if you can!


Chapter 3



Luna drummed her fingers on the table and smiled placidly at Harry. “Yes, Harry, I will say again that Neville was with me. I remember it clearly, and I’m sure he does as well,” she said without the hint of a blush.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Right, then,” he nodded, and cleared his throat. “Did you hear any sound coming from the bathroom?”

“No…sorry,” Luna shook her head. Then, she turned to look at Ginny, who was still sleeping on the table, as nobody had managed to wake her. According to Ron, she was a heavy sleeper — so after five minutes of fruitless attempts, they had let her sleep. “I wonder what she’s dreaming,” Luna commented, humming and looking at Ginny with interest. “At least she doesn’t snore,” Luna added happily.

The door of the compartment opened and in came the strangest party Harry had ever seen. A nervous-looking Hermione was being flanked by Theodore Nott, who was levitating the unconscious form of Pansy Parkinson. He made her float through the door, grinning broadly when she hit her head against the doorframe, and released her on the floor. Harry looked at Nott through raised eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Oh, hi!” Luna said greeting the newcomers, as if such a thing happened every day. “How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. Not interrupting, are we?” Nott asked, walking in with Hermione in tow. He went toward a chair that was near Pansy’s body, and when he pushed the chair back to sit down on it, he hit Pansy’s side with its leg. “Oh, sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. Ron burst out laughing, and Harry joined him in no time.

“I think,” chuckled Ron, sitting down too, “that you may not be that bad after all, Nott.”

“You don’t know what a burden your blessing takes off my shoulders,” Nott answered sarcastically.

“That’s all, Luna, you may go,” Harry told the blonde witch, who was watching the exchange with a dreamy smile. She got up, wished them a Heliopath-free day and waltzed out of the compartment.

Once it was only Harry, Ron, Hermione and Nott in the compartment (plus the sleeping Ginny and the unconscious Pansy), Nott took the vial out of his robes. “When I asked to talk to Hermione earlier, I gave her the spell that unlocks the Slytherin compartment and asked her to search it,” he explained, fingering the vial. “She found this inside Pansy’s trunk.”

Harry took it from him and examined it. Meanwhile, Ron asked, “What happened to Pansy?”

“She caught Hermione and tried to stun her,” Nott told him, shooting a dirty look at Pansy. “However, I stunned her first and Hermione and I decided to bring her here.”

“What’s this, anyway?” Harry asked, fingering the vial. “It looks like Veritaserum.”

“That it does,” Nott nodded, “but its effects couldn’t be more different. It’s a Dark Potion called the Draught of Double Deadliness.”

“The Draught of what?” Ron asked, frowning.

Nott sighed. “The Draught of Double Deadliness,” he explained, “is a very ancient Dark Potion that is, as its name indicates, deadly in two ways. At first it was invented to reinforce the Anima Mortem Spell which, you may be interested to know, was the beginning of Dementors.”

“But I thought Dementors were magical creatures?” Hermione asked, frowning.

Nott smiled. “The first Dementors were witches and wizards who were deprived of their souls by the force of a curse, Anima Mortem. That’s one of the Seven Dark Spells, which are, of course, forbidden by the Ministry of Magic. You might have heard of those.” Harry, who remembered having read up on the subject, nodded. Nott continued. “Anima Mortem means death of the soul in Latin. That’s what the curse does — it separates the victim’s soul from their body, hence turning the victim into an empty shell. Their body still functions correctly, but the person as such has died, because souls can’t survive very long out of the person they belong to.”

Ron looked from Nott to Ginny, horror struck. “Are-are you saying that someone cast that…that curse on Ginny?”

“Of course not,” the Slytherin replied haughtily. “If she had been cursed, you would know. But that’s beside the point. The point is, some people can’t be affected by Anima Mortem, because they’re too powerfully magical, or because they’ve got a natural resistance. That’s what the Draught of Double Deadliness is used for, it weakens the drinker and reduces their resistance to the curse.”

“Ginny has a great magical potential,” Harry said, looking at the redhead who was still sleeping peacefully. “Seeing as this vial is only half-full, I reckon Pansy slipped her the Draught of Double Deadliness during breakfast to weaken her natural shields.”

“Was Pansy paving the way for somebody else who intended to put that curse on Ginny, then?” Hermione suggested.

“Either that, or Patsy was thinking of the other use of the Draught of Double Deadliness,” Nott suggested.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked curiously. She, Ron and Harry were listening intently.

“The Draught of Double Deadliness is also deadly in its own right. It weakens the drinker faster than any other potion or curse you could ever find.” Nott’s expression became very sombre. “The symptoms of being under its influence are exhaustion, slower reflexes, sleepiness, withering of the skin and darkening of the hair,” he added significantly.

Harry, Ron and Hermione gasped, all at the same time. They looked at Ginny and realised that all the pieces of the puzzle fit perfectly. “That’s not all,” Nott added. “The final symptom comes three hours after drinking the potion.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, though deep inside he already knew the answer.

“Death,” Nott answered, looking at Ginny with a sorrowful expression on his face.

Hermione choked a sob, threw her arms around Ron and began crying on his shoulder. Ron ran his hand down her back, trying to soothe her, but tears were running down his own cheeks.

“Pansy gave her that thing?” Harry exclaimed, furious. “I’ll kill her,” he announced, taking out his wand. “Someone revive her, I’m not going to kill her while she can’t defend herself,” he instructed, remembering that she was unconscious.

“Killing Pansy won’t help Ginny,” Nott told him reasonably. “Besides, if we keep the hag alive, we’ll be able to get information out of her. After that, you can torture her. Hell, I’ll help you, but leave her alone for now.”

Harry subsided and, after a final murderous glare at Pansy, sat back down and tried to calm down. After a while, Hermione had stopped crying and both she and Ron were in condition to speak. Nott, meanwhile, was watching Ginny with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Something doesn’t make sense, though,” he said pensively.

The rest looked at him expectantly, and he elaborated. “It’s half past one already. Breakfast was at nine — Ginny should have died at least an hour ago.”

Harry quickly put two fingers on her neck, and let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “She’s still alive, though. I can feel a pulse.”

“Which makes me wonder,” Nott continued, “…whether Ginny’s natural resistance isn’t holding the poison back, somehow making it work at a slower pace.”

“That makes sense. If it’s the case, it buys us time as well,” Harry replied hopefully.

“Judging by her actual state, I’d say we’ve got about another three hours until her death,” Nott told the others, who immediately perked up. “Don’t start celebrating so soon, though,” he added bitterly. “The antidote takes twelve hours to brew. So unless someone is carrying a flask full of antidote for an extremely rare Dark Potion…”

“…there’s no way we can save Ginny,” Hermione finished for him.

“There’s got to be a way,” Harry insisted, refusing to give up hope. “There’s always a way.”

“Hermione, wasn’t there another vial in Pansy’s trunk?” Ron asked desperately.

Hermione shook her head. “I checked. There were only clothes and other personal stuff.”

“I can’t believe she’s going to die,” Harry said, his voice breaking as his eyes stung with unshed tears. “I can’t believe there’s nothing we can do to save her…” He got up from his seat and moved his chair so that he was right next to Ginny. He let his palm touch her once smooth skin as he started to cry.

“It’s so unfair,” Ron sobbed. “It’s not her time to go… she’s too young…”

“Ron’s right,” Harry thought. “It’s not her time to go…” “Time…” he muttered aloud, as an idea started to form in his brain. “Theodore,” he called the Slytherin, who looked at him questioningly. “Theodore, do you know the Tempus Fugit Curse?”

“Of course,” Nott answered. “What are you thinking?”

*****


Harry was leaning against the locked door of Compartment P, which was the most isolated from the rest. He watched in silence as Hermione lit a fire under Nott’s cauldron, while the Slytherin prepared the ingredients of the antidote on a small wooden table. None of them could believe that they had managed to get their hands on all the ingredients they needed in less than half an hour — apparently, Class C Non-tradable Substances weren’t as hard to find in the average student’s trunk as Harry and the rest had supposed, and for that they were grateful.

“So, you think it will work?” Harry asked, watching Nott cut Boomslang skin with a silver dagger.

“Let’s hope it does,” Hermione answered, sitting down on a stool with a sigh.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try, right?” Nott told them happily. It was easy to tell that he loved working on potions. “Do you remember the incantation, Pot-Harry?”

“Who would have thought I’d be on first-name terms with a Slytherin one day,” Harry chuckled. He took out his wand and went over the spell in his head. “Yeah, Theodore, I do.”

“Remember, try and channel as much energy into it as you can,” Nott told him. “If you could make time go four times faster than usual, I think we might be able to save Ginny.”

After discussing the theory related to Tempus Fugit, a Curse which made people age extra quickly, Harry, Hermione and Nott had come to the conclusion that, if the spell was cast on a room instead of on a person, it would cause time to go by faster inside that room. The plan was that Ron would stay in the other compartment looking after the sleeping Ginny while Nott and Hermione brewed the potion inside Compartment P. Harry, who was going to cast the spell, had managed to get his hands on some Veritaserum to use on Pansy later.

“Ok,” Harry told the others, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to do it.”

Silence as the one that followed that predicament had never been experienced by any of them. Hermione and Nott watched Harry intently as he closed his eyes and concentrated. He let himself remember all the good things that he had experienced with Ginny — their first kiss, their afternoons by the lake, their nightly talks in the Gryffindor Common Room — and he let the love he felt for her fill him completely. The feeling was close to overwhelming, but as perfect as a phoenix song, and Harry knew that if Ginny were taken away from him, his life would lose its meaning. It was then that he felt the power unleashing inside of him, melting into him, and as he performed the spell, with every fibre of his being he wished it would work.

A moment later, he felt his own power lingering in the air and he knew, without opening his eyes that it had worked. He looked at the small clock on the table and almost cried in relief when he saw its hands were moving much faster than usual. He grinned widely as Nott thumped him on the back and cried, “I’ll be damned if the Sorting Hat didn’t misplace you, Harry!”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Harry told them, grinning widely. “I’ve got an innocent student to interrogate!” he called as he went out. Harry heard Nott snort and ask him to ‘kick Pansy’s oversized rear’ before the door closed behind him.

*****


Harry sat on tenterhooks on the floor next to Pansy. He extracted a small vial from his robes and poured three drops of it into Pansy’s mouth. Pointing his wand at her chest, he muttered, “Enervate.”

Pansy stirred and opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times. Then, she turned her unfocused eyes on Harry and looked at him blankly. He helped her to a chair and sat in front of her, next to Ron, who was holding the sleeping Ginny’s hand.

“Are you Pansy Parkinson?” Harry asked her, deciding to go for the easy questions first.

“Yes, I am,” she answered in a toneless voice.

“Do you know who we are?”

“You’re Harry Potter,” she replied. “The redheaded boy is Ron Weasley, and that’s his sister Ginny.”

“Pansy, did you give Ginny the Draught of Double Deadliness?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yes, I did. This morning at breakfast, I put it in her pumpkin juice without her noticing.”

“At what time was that?”

“At about half past nine.”

“How did you manage to distract her?”

“I told her a story about building new bonds and working hand in hand with old enemies.”

“Why did you say that to her?”

“I need to get close to Harry Potter. I need him to think I’m on his side, his trust would be very valuable to the Dark Lord’s plans.”

“So you support Lord Voldemort?”

“I shall follow the Dark Lord to the end. He has the right ideas. With him, we can build a magical world where only those worthy of being called witches and wizards will be allowed to learn magic,” Pansy told him with a twisted smile. “Potter and his friends are only pawns in the Dark Lord’s game. It’s a matter of time before they are swept off of the board.”

“What was Bellatrix Lestrange doing on the Hogwarts Express?” Harry asked her, looking her in the eye.

“The Dark Lord had a plan: “Keep Potter occupied and away from the Weasley girl, Parkinson,” the Dark Lord said to me, “So the coast will be clear for Bellatrix.” I did what I was told, and I kept Potter as long as I could, telling him the same story about unity that I had told the Weasley girl at breakfast. Bellatrix was to use that time to carry out her own instructions. I don’t know what they were exactly.”

“Do you have an idea of what she had to do, Pansy?” Harry asked, giving her his full attention.

“It was something to do with Polyjuice,” Pansy replied. “She was to obtain hair from one of Potter’s friends, Ginny Weasley if possible, and get the real person out of the way. Bellatrix was to use a Dark Spell of sorts to keep the person’s body alive and working, though, so she could keep cutting the hair for the potion. That’s all I know.”

“Was this curse Anima Mortem, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

“There’s something I don’t understand, though,” Harry said. “Bellatrix was already going to do Ginny in through that spell, and in spite of that you poisoned her. Why?”

“I thought that, if Bellatrix chose Ginny as a target, the Draught would destroy any natural shields she could have against the curse, and if she didn’t choose Ginny, the draught would get her out of the way in any case.” Pansy looked almost deranged now. “I’ve seen Ginny and Potter together. He’s in love with her, I can see it in the way he looks at her. If she is killed, Potter will fall to pieces and it will be easier to get him out of the way as well. The Dark Lord will reign over the wizarding world forever.”

Stupefy,” Harry muttered, pointing his wand at Pansy. Her head dropped on top of the table as she was knocked out. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, at least we know more than we did before,” Ron said, sighing too.

“We know why Bellatrix was on the train, but not who killed her. Pansy obviously didn’t, why would she kill someone who was on her side?” Harry groaned in frustration. “We should go back to the bathroom. We must have overlooked something. I’ll ask Luna to look after Ginny.” He got up and walked towards the door of the compartment, but Ron didn’t move. Harry turned to him and, raising his eyebrows, asked, “Are you coming or not?”

“Sure,” Ron got up and kissed the top of Ginny’s head. Harry sighed and opened the door to walk out. “Harry, wait,” Ron called him, and Harry stopped and turned to look at his best friend. “Is it true?” Ron asked, an unfathomable expression on his face.

“What is true?” Harry asked, confused.

“Pansy said you’re in love with Ginny. Is it true?” Ron fixed Harry with his blue gaze.

Harry sighed and smiled. “Yeah… it is,” he told Ron. “You… you don’t mind, do you?”

With a wide grin, Ron pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “Are you kidding? This is wonderful! Harry, have you told her this?”

“Well, no,” Harry confessed with regret. “I knew my feelings for Ginny were pretty strong, but I never realised I’m in love with her, until I almost lost her today.”

“You’ve got to tell her, Harry. She’ll wake up, and then you’ll tell her this you’re telling me. I’m so happy for both of you,” Ron smiled.

“I know. The first thing I’ll do is tell her,” Harry smiled back, looking at Ginny’s sleeping form. “We’ll have months, years, ages…”

Back to index


Chapter 5: Chapter 4

Author's Notes: I've said it before, but I'll say it again: A huge thanks to Spenser Hemmingway for his incredible beta work. You rock my socks, Eric ^_^


Chapter 4



Harry opened the door of the bathroom and held it open for Ron, who was right behind him. “Want to go in first?” he asked.

“Not really,” Ron answered with a grin, and pushed Harry in.

Harry chuckled and looked around at the room they were in. He heard Ron close the door with a click behind him, and he cast a sideways look at Bella’s body, which was still lying there, rigid and unmoving. “Guess the rigor mortis is setting in,” he commented. He then turned to Ron and asked, “Shall we enact what happened here?”

Ron nodded. “I’ll be Bellatrix,” he said, walking towards the door. “You can be the killer — remember, you’re inside that cubicle at the moment.”

“Right,” Harry nodded, going into the second cubicle. He closed the door after him and noticed something peculiar in it. “Ron, come here, you may want to have a look at this.”

“What’s that?” Ron opened the cubicle door with some effort and Harry retreated to the back of the cubicle to let him in. Then he pointed at the part of the door where the bolt should have been. Only, there was no bolt, and the wood looked burnt, as if a fire had been lit next to it. “What happened?” Ron muttered, touching the wood with his fingers. He removed them quickly, though. “It’s still warm.”

Harry looked at the burnt spot and thought aloud, “Well, if the killer was here, they must have gone out pretty fast in order to surprise Bellatrix. I am guessing that the reason why the Banishing Charm was so powerful is because the attacker was feeling very strong emotions, which also caused a burst of accidental magic that reduced the bolt to ashes and made the door open.”

“That makes sense,” Ron nodded. “Ok, I’m going to go out and act like I’m her.” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of Bellatrix.

Ron walked from the door of the bathroom to the point where Bella’s body was, and in that moment, Harry went out of the cubicle and pointed his wand at Ron. “Ok, so now we duel,” Harry said, and he and Ron started acting as if they were shooting spells at each other. “Now I banish you,” Harry told him, and Ron walked backwards till he was right next to Bellatrix.

“Right,” he sighed. “So this is what happened here, but who was the person in the cubicle?”

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “That’s just what I don’t —” He stopped mid-sentence and looked at a spot on the ground, his eyes wide. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed.

“What? What is it?” Ron asked nervously, coming up to him. Slowly, Harry bent down to pick up a handkerchief from the floor. Ron gave a whimper at the sight of it and shook his head in disbelief. “It can’t be,” he repeated over and over again. “It just can’t.”

Harry looked at the black handkerchief, not wanting to admit what it was telling him. “I can’t believe it either,” he sighed, tracing the embroidered letters with his finger. “But who else has the initials ‘GMW’?”

****


A pair of emerald green eyes looked out of the window. The rain, so insistent before, was now a mere drizzle that fell to the ground almost reluctantly and joined the small streams of water that had formed earlier. Harry found it oddly ironic that the landscape looked as lonely and sad as he felt. He turned to look at the glass on his hand, and shook it slightly, making a bit of the amber liquid spill out. With a sigh, he lifted it up to his lips and took a swig. He winced as the Firewhiskey burned his throat and made his eyes water slightly. He shook his head and took another swig as the compartment door slid open.

“Can I have a word with you, Harry?” Cho Chang’s voice came from the doorway.

Harry looked at the Asian girl questioningly but nodded nevertheless. With a small smile, she closed the door behind her and took a seat in front of him. “Are you all right?” she asked, peering at him concernedly.

“Yeah… I think,” Harry answered vaguely, sipping his glass again. Cho watched him drink from it and frowned. “You can’t try and drown your sorrows in alcohol. They can swim,” she said wisely. “I learnt that some time ago.”

“Why did you come here?” Harry asked her brusquely.

She sighed and looked him in the eye. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Please, Harry, don’t get defensive with me,” Cho asked him softly.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, drinking what was left in his glass.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. However, her expression changed to one of seriousness when she continued. “I heard what happened. Everyone is saying that Ginny is the murderer.”

“I just can’t believe she is,” Harry shook his head.

“How do you feel about her after this? Do you still love her?” Cho asked quietly.

“Of course I do,” Harry answered, knowing as he said it that it was the truth. “But I’m confused. I don’t know if I’m happy that Bella’s dead, or sad that Ginny’s a murderer.”

“Life is highly overrated,” Cho muttered. “Even the murder of someone who doesn’t deserve to live is considered an atrocity. From what I’ve heard, it was all in self-defence. Besides, if you are truly in love with her, this shouldn’t matter at all.”

“That’s it, though, isn’t it?” Harry asked bitterly. “I’m in love with her, and now I discover she’s a murderer. So I wonder, what else is she hiding?” Harry shook his head. “I’m just being stupid,” he chastised himself. “Just being stupid. Overreacting.”

Cho sighed. “Murder is not as bad as it’s made out to be. I still think about Cedric… I was in love with him, and I know that if he had killed someone to save his own life, I would still love him, even if he had become a murderer.” Harry looked at Cho and started to realise how right she was. “Would you rather Ginny hadn’t done anything? Would you rather the body in the bathroom was hers instead of Bella’s?”

Harry shook his head. “Of course not,” he answered, as what Cho had been trying to tell him finally made sense.

“She’s dying now though, Harry,” Cho told him sadly. “I was walking by the door of your compartment when I heard Pansy say she had poisoned Ginny. She’s dying, Harry, the love of your life is dying! And you’re sitting here, feeling sorry for what happened! Are you going to let her die like this? I bet she knows you’ve found her handkerchief. She’s going to die being believed a filthy murderer by the only man she has ever loved!” Cho got up, tears running down her face now. “If you let that happen, you’re not who I thought you were,” she added sadly, and ran towards the door. She stopped for a second and, without looking back at him, added, “It may seem like Ginny is not a good person. It may seem like she’s just a filthy murderer. But remember… things are never what they seem.”

Harry took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes. Cho was right. He checked his watch and realised with a sinking feeling that the potion would kill Ginny in less than half an hour. How could he let time slip through his fingers this way? Neither Nott nor Hermione had returned, so the antidote wasn’t ready. Harry wasn’t going to let Ginny die thinking he didn’t love her. He made his glass vanish and got up to leave when he saw something lying next to the spot where Cho had been sitting. It was a wand — Cho’s wand. He pocketed it and decided to give it back to her later. Now, his priority was to see Ginny.

Harry ran down the train towards the compartment where she was, occasionally muttering an ‘excuse me’ or a ‘sorry’ whenever he bumped into any of his fellow students. Finally, he reached his destination and opened the door so forcefully that it made Ron, who was next to Ginny, jump in his chair.

“She woke up a while ago, but fell asleep again,” Ron informed him.

Harry, however, paid him no mind, and asked him to leave them alone. Ron nodded and, muttering a ‘good luck’ to his friend, went to wait outside. Once he had left, Harry took out his wand and cast a quick Enervate on Ginny.

Her eyes opened slowly, lazily, and she smiled sadly when she saw him. “Hello, Harry,” she greeted him softly.

Harry could feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he scooped her up in his arms and made her sit on his lap. She looked at him quizzically, her clear brown eyes boring into his. “Ron told me what’s going to happen to me in twenty minutes,” she whispered. Harry started crying in earnest and pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again, caressing her back. “I’m so sorry, Gin. Will you ever forgive me?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked him, pulling away to look him in the eye. “You haven’t done anything to me. There’s nothing that should be forgiven.”

“I should never have left you at the funeral,” he muttered, his vision blurry due to the tears. “If I hadn’t, none of this would have happened.”

“There’s no use protecting me now,” Ginny answered, crying as well. “Not even you can protect me from death, Harry.”

“Maybe not,” Harry admitted, “but I can make you die knowing the truth.” Ginny looked at him questioningly. “I don’t care if you’re a murderer. You’re still Ginny, my Ginny. I still feel the same way about you.” He took a deep breath and said, “I love you, Ginny Weasley.”

Ginny choked back a sob and threw her arms around him. “I love you too. I always have,” she told him, resting her hand against his face. Harry closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of her skin against his, and leaned forward to kiss her. The kiss was slow, and told them that what they had could never be destroyed, not even by death.

When they pulled away, Ginny caressed Harry’s cheek and looked into his eyes. “You’ll never be alone,” she muttered lovingly. “I’ll always be with you, here.” She put her hand over his chest, where his heart was. “All you have to do is think of me, and I’ll be with you.”

“I know,” he told her, and kissed her again. He pulled her as close to him as he could, as if that way he could force her to remain with him.

Someone cleared his throat from the doorway. “I really hate to interrupt,” came Nott’s voice from the doorway. “It seems like it’s all I do lately.” Harry and Ginny pulled away and looked at him smiling slightly, and he grinned back at them, looking very proud of himself. “I’ve got the antidote. Drink it all, Ginny,” he said, giving Ginny a flask full of a liquid that emitted a faint coppery glow. Without thinking it twice, Ginny grabbed the flask and drowned it in one go.

“Next time you’ve got to save me from poisoning,” she choked, wincing, “won’t you put a bit of sugar into the antidote?”

Ron, who had come in again when he had seen Nott and Hermione arriving with the antidote, yanked Ginny away from Harry and hugged the life out of her. “You’re going to be the end of me, if you ever scare me like this.” Ginny hugged him back, a huge grin on her face, which was slowly recovering its normal creamy colour.

“I love you too, even if you’re a dimwit sometimes,” she giggled softly.

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed, acting offended, though in reality he was grinning from ear to ear.

Ginny stuck out her tongue at him and kissed Harry soundly, making the others whoop. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or pity you, mate,” Ron chuckled. “The fiery hair comes with a fiery temper. You’re the most courageous bloke I know, if you’re willing to subject yourself to my sister.”

“Maybe that’s why I got placed in Gryffindor after all,” Harry answered, looking at Theodore with amusement dancing in his eyes.

Theodore shook his head and looked at Ginny accusingly as she brought Harry down to kiss her again. “What?” she asked when they pulled apart.

“I saved you! Don’t I get one of those as well?” Theodore joked, his eyes twinkling.

Ginny laughed and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “This is all I can give you,” she giggled.

“It’s not enough. But you can make up for it by making me Best Man when you two get married,” Theodore teased.

****


“We’ll arrive at Kings’ Cross Station in half an hour,” Theodore announced, throwing himself onto a chair.

Harry took out Cho’s wand and got up. “I should be getting this back to Cho,” he told the others. “She came to see me earlier and forgot this.”

“Right,” Ron nodded, taking out his chessboard and pieces. “Want to play, Ginny?” he asked.

“You’re going to be thrashed, dear brother,” she grinned and sat in front of him. “Come back soon, Harry,” she called, as her boyfriend went out of the compartment.

Harry walked down the doorway towards the Ravenclaw Compartment, where he knew Cho would be. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. Even though he had accepted that Ginny had killed Bella, part of him still couldn’t believe it. He fingered the wand in his hands — weeping willow, by the looks of it. He couldn’t help but wonder how Cho had forgotten the wand in his compartment. She hadn’t taken it out in all the time they had been talking, so how could she have left it there? Was it a sign? Was she trying to tell him something?

“It may seem like Ginny is not a good person. It may seem like she’s just a filthy murderer. But remember… things are never what they seem.” What had Cho meant to say by that? Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Was Cho telling him that Ginny was not Bella’s killer? He looked at the wand. The wheels in his head started turning, and he realised what she had meant, even though he couldn’t find it any sense at all.

“Cho, I need to talk to you,” Harry asked, sliding open the door of the Ravenclaw Compartment. He was surprised to see that she was alone in there.

“That’s good,” she answered, smiling. “Come sit down, Harry.”

He did as he was told and showed her the wand. “You forgot this,” he said.

“Maybe I did,” she answered cryptically. “Have you done anything to it, Harry?”

“What?” Harry asked, shocked. “Of course not!”

Cho sighed. “I told you… things aren’t what they seem. You didn’t listen…” she looked at him sadly. “Can I have your wand, please, Harry?”

Frowning in confusion, Harry took out his wand and gave it to her. She took it and made its tip touch the tip of her own wand. “Prior Incantato!” she muttered. From the point where the two wands were connected erupted a puff of smoke. It formed the shape of a cloaked woman. A jet of light hit the woman on the chest and threw her backwards. Harry gaped at Cho, who smiled sadly at him. “You see, Ginny didn’t do it,” she told him. “I did.”

“How? Why?” Harry asked, confused.

“Let me tell you the story,” Cho said softly, and began speaking.

****


Cho got on the Hogwarts Express surrounded by her Ravenclaw friends. Marietta was telling Helen something that Roger Davies had told her the other day, and they were both laughing openly. However, as hilarious as the story undoubtedly was, Cho couldn’t find it in her to laugh along with her friends. It was rainy days like this that reminded her the most of Cedric, and how much he loved taking walks outside in the rain. He used to say how the rain purified him and washed away all his worries and problems.

“So Roger went to Anthony and told him to stuff his graphs and statistics. You should have seen his face!” Marietta giggled.

“Hey girls, I’m going to the bathroom,” Cho told them. “See you in the compartment later.”

Both girls nodded and continued talking. Cho walked away from them, hoping they hadn’t seen the tears that were starting to run down her cheeks. Finally, she arrived to the bathroom and went in, closing the door after her. It was empty. However, Cho locked herself inside the second of the three cubicles; afraid someone would come into the bathroom and see her crying. She didn’t want anyone to know that she still thought about Cedric more than she told her friends. It wasn’t that she couldn’t forget about him — it was that she didn’t want to. She felt that, if she let go of him, she would be letting go of the happiness she knew by his side.

While Cho was crying, she heard the whistle that announced that the train would be leaving Hogsmeade Station in five minutes. Shortly after that, she heard the door of the bathroom open. She stiffened, and tried to keep silent, just in case it was Marietta or Helen. However, she soon realised that it wasn’t, because this girl was crying too. Cho heard the girl sob and mutter “It’s over, it’s over” again and again. Cho recognised the voice — it was Ginny Weasley.

Cho wondered what had happened to her. She always seemed to radiate off happiness, so why was she crying? Cho barely knew her, but deep inside she knew that Ginny Weasley was the kind of person you can trust no matter what happens. That’s why Cho felt sad for her. Ginny must be washing her face, Cho thought as she heard water flowing. Then, the door opened again, and this time Cho knew it was unwanted company. Cho watched the scene through a small gap in the door.

“What do you want?” Ginny asked, whipping around to face the newcomer. “You’re not welcome here, Bellatrix!”

The woman called Bellatrix let out a cold, humourless laugh. “You break my heart,” she sneered. “Do believe me, I wouldn’t be here if it depended on me. This train is full of Mudbloods and filth.”

“Then leave!” Ginny shouted, wiping her eyes furiously and taking out her wand.

“I am here on the Dark Lord’s orders,” Bellatrix smiled proudly, “and I will not leave until his instructions are fulfilled. Stupefy!” A jet of red light shot from the tip of Bella’s wand towards Ginny, who dodged it.

“Is that the best you can give me, Bellatrix?” Ginny told her sneeringly. “It’s going to take more than one Stunner to finish me off.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bella answered. She threw another jet of light at Ginny at the same time that the redhead fired a Stunner of her own. The two jets collided and threw each other off course, which resulted in both spells missing their targets.

“If I had wanted you dead, Ginny Weasley,” Bella said, “you’d be already.” Then, with a swift movement of her wrist, Bella produced ropes that tied themselves around Ginny’s body, immobilising her before she had time to react. Ginny fought and wrestled against the ropes, but they didn’t release her. Bella laughed.

“You’re too brave, or too stupid. A typical Gryffindor,” Bella sneered. “I hope that, at least, you’re proud of yourself.” With a wave of her wand, she forced Ginny into a sitting position in the corner, where she had no way to escape.

“Set me free, you great bitch!” Ginny yelled, her eyes blazing with fury.

“What would be the fun in that?” Bella taunted her. “Though I must admit that it’s a pity I have to get rid of you. You’ve got a pretty face… just like that Diggory boy did.”

Cho felt her blood boiling with anger and hatred. How could this woman speak of Cedric that way? She wasn’t half as good as he was, she didn’t deserve to even speak his name. A wave of fury like Cho had never known before came over her, and she hardly noticed when the door of the cubicle burst open.

“This is the end of you, Ginny Weasley,” the woman smirked, so focused on Ginny that she hadn’t noticed Cho’s appearance. Bella trained her wand on the redhead once more and cried, “Anima Mor-”

“Impedimenta!” Cho cried, and the woman turned just in time for a white-hot jet of light to collide with her chest and send her flying backwards. At the contact with the wall, she dropped to the floor, unmoving.

Cho ran towards Ginny, whose breathing was ragged and heavy. With a wave of her wand, Cho released the redhead and then helped her to her feet. Ginny mumbled a ‘thank you’ before asking, “Why did you do it?”

“That woman insulted Cedric,” Cho answered furiously. She could still feel her power pounding in the air around her. “Besides, she was about to harm you.”

Ginny smiled and hugged the older girl. “Thanks, Cho,” she muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Cho smiled. Then, she turned to look at Bella’s cloaked figure lying on the floor, not showing a sign of life. Both Cho and Ginny approached the Death Eater, their wands out just in case. “Is she unconscious?” Cho asked.

Ginny bent down and touched Bella’s neck. With a gasp, she removed her hand. “Cho,” she said in a small voice. “She’s not unconscious. She’s dead.”

Cho looked at Ginny, alarmed. “What are you talking about?” Cho asked. Ginny nodded solemnly. Just then, Cho saw the scarlet liquid on the wall that had stopped Bella’s body. It was blood. Horrified, Cho put her hands over her mouth and backed away from the corpse. “I killed her,” she muttered over and over again, her eyes wide. Then, she turned to look at Ginny, who was staring at her with an unfathomable expression on her face. “You’re not going to turn me in, are you?” Cho asked in a small voice.

Ginny shook her head. “You just saved my life. It’s the least I can do to repay you,” Ginny told her, and got up. “Let’s get out of here. Nobody’s got to know.”

Cho nodded mutely. “Thanks,” she said, following Ginny, who was walking towards the door. “Hold on,” Cho told her suddenly, and turned to cover Bella’s face with the hood of her robes. Then, taking a deep breath, she ran out of the bathroom, right after Ginny.

“Remember,” Ginny whispered to her, as she locked the bathroom door with a charm. “If anybody asks, you don’t know anything. Go now, they mustn’t see us near here.”

****


Harry took a moment to process the information. “That makes sense,” he said slowly. “Your story is coherent with the evidence we found.”

Cho nodded. “You should consider yourself a lucky man,” she told Harry. “Ginny was the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She never turned me in, even when she was about to die. But it was time I returned the favour, so her memory can rest in peace.” Cho looked at her hands, which were on her lap.

“Cho,” Harry muttered. “Ginny’s alive.”

Cho looked up, shocked. “I thought she’d been poisoned?”

“We managed to brew the antidote in time,” Harry explained. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Cho smiled. “I’m so happy for you,” she said, and Harry knew that she truly meant it. “You both deserve happiness. You belong together; I see it in the way you look at each other. Please be happy, do it for me, won’t you?”

Harry kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Cho,” he told her, getting up as he felt the train come to a stop. He halted in the threshold, just before going out. Looking back at the Ravenclaw with a smile, he whispered, “Remember… Nobody’s got to know.” With that, he left the compartment and went to meet his friends.

“Nobody’s got to know,” Cho muttered with a smile, after he had left. Her dark eyes looked out of the window, and watching the raindrops that lingered on the glass, she smiled and realised it had never been about letting go of Cedric. She put a hand over her heart and knew, without a doubt, that he would always be with her.


THE END

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