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A Dangerous Gamble On the Hogwarts Express | ||||||
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Category: Hogwarts Express Challenge (2006-3) Characters:None Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama Warnings: Death Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 19 Summary: ** Winner of Best Mystery in the Hogwarts Express Challenge ** A body is found after the train pulls out of the Hogsmeade Depot. The investigation falls on Harry, whose shoulders are already carrying a heavy load. Can he solve the crime and find the murderer before the train reaches Kings Cross Station? Does he ask for help? Will he find some of the answers that he seeks? Hitcount: Story Total: 10349; Chapter Total: 2796 Author's Notes: Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. JKR created this wonderful world and Iām just borrowing it. My only reward is the review left by the reader, so please leave one.
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Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express Harry trudged dejectedly away from Professor Dumbledore’s funeral with Ron and Hermione flanking him. Since the murder of the Headmaster, these two friends were the only two people in the entire world that he trusted implicitly. He knew that no matter what happened in the coming months, they would stand by him. They were willing to put their lives on hold, and possibly pay the ultimate sacrifice to help him defeat Voldemort. Was it fair? No way! Was it going to be easy? Nothing had ever come easily for him, or his friends. Did they have the knowledge that it would take to carry out this task? Only time would tell. He looked at Ron and saw the same blue eyes as always, but they weren’t shining with their normal suppressed laughter. When had he become so serious? When Harry had first met him, Ron had been a lanky, carrot-topped child, just a little older than Harry had been. However, raised in a loving family that had always stood beside each other, Ron had known what it took to befriend someone unquestioningly. Without him, Voldemort would have murdered Harry many times over. Turning the other way, Harry looked into Hermione’s worried face. The same could be said for her, she had saved his life more than once. She had always been more studious than the boys had, more often then not, reading a large tome, her bushy hair pushed behind her ears out of the way. Without her, Harry probably would have flunked out of Hogwarts in his first year. He could always rely on her to find the correct Spell or Potion to save the day. He grimaced as he remembered the Polyjuice Potion that she had whipped up in their Second year. It was rumoured that she was the smartest Witch of her age, and she would need to be, if they were to survive through the summer. Was it fair to drag them into this quest? It wasn’t as if he asked them to come along. He was quite willing to go by himself. He really didn’t want anyone else to die for him. There had been enough death around him to last him a lifetime. That was why he had wrenched his heart out and, although she didn’t realise it yet, he had handed it to Ginny to care for until- if - he returned. As Hermione had told him multiple times in her most annoying lectures, ‘It really isn’t up to you whether or not Ron and I support you. That is our choice. And, our minds are made up.’ Hogwarts came into view as the trio turned at the far end of the lake. A miniature castle perched on a cliff in the distance, shimmering in the golden rays of summer sunshine. For just a moment, Harry thought that it had all been a dream. Just his over-active imagination conjuring Camelot, King Arthur and his Knights while his Aunt kept him locked in the closet under the stairs. Any time now, he would wake to her shrill, strident voice demanding that he help with some chore. Drawing nearer, he saw the sandy beach that the students played on, the chairs from the funeral still lined up like a battalion of sentries waiting to be relieved. To the left, Hagrid’s hut, looking forlorn, without the usual welcoming smoke billowing from the chimney. With each step, the castle grew until he was standing in front of the tall oak double doors, each decorated with a wreath cloaked with black ribbons. Harry turned aside from the pain of entering Hogwarts for the last time. He knew that his trunk would magically appear at the station. The House Elves, Dobby in particular, would finish his packing. With the castle at his back, his shoulders sagging, he wearily trod the path leading away from the only place that he had ever called home. The castle had called to his lonely heart the first evening as the boats approached from across the lake. Almost unbearable pain ripped through his chest, for he knew deep in his soul that he belonged in this place. Nevertheless, he continued his trek towards Hogsmeade and the train depot. All too soon, he was sitting alone in the middle of a long bench on the platform in Hogsmeade, so aloof and isolated that no one dared approach. Wide shoulders hunched as if to ward off any more pain, his arms crossed, the muscles bunching as his hands clenched into white knuckled fists to stop their shaking, he sat as still as a statue. Ragged gasps broke the silence as he forced air into his lungs. His emerald eyes filmed with tears from the pain of his loss and he prayed that he wouldn’t break down and howl like a small child. A small Scops Owl interrupted his self imposed solitude when it swooped towards him and settled on the back of the bench. Hooting softly, she nipped his shoulder and held out her leg so that Harry could remove the attached letter. The handwriting addressing the missive was familiar but he couldn’t place it. Looking around to see if anyone was paying attention, Harry slowly unfolded the note. Harry, We need to talk. It is very important. Please meet me in one hour in the third car, compartment B. No one likes to use that one because it’s across from the Prefect’s compartment, so we should have the privacy necessary. I have something for you that cannot wait until you reach The Burrow. It will explain everything. Come alone. This is a matter of life and death. After we talk, I will leave it up to you whether or not you share the story with Ron and Hermione. Sincerely, George Weasley Harry threaded his aching fingers through his already dishevelled hair, before checking his watch. How very odd. He had spoken to George not more than two hours ago before the funeral. What could be so important that they had to speak about it today of all days. Although he didn’t expect to be there very long, he would be at The Burrow in a little over a month, on his birthday to be exact. When he turned seventeen, Dumbledore had informed him that the protection surrounding him at the Dursleys would no longer work. Harry shoved the note deep into the pocket of his black uniform robe just as the Hogwarts Express, its whistle blowing shrilly while steam engulfed the platform, came screeching to a halt, the engine shuddering with the effort to stop. He watched as the engineer and the trolley lady stepped down from the train and crossed the road to make their way to The Three Broomsticks where they would wait for the train to fill with students and luggage. He could now make out the excited laughter of some of the younger students as they approached the station. For them, it was the end of a school year, the holidays stretching endlessly before them. They were secure in their belief that their loving parents would be able to keep them safe. They weren’t old enough to be cognizant of the fact that no one would be truly safe until Harry destroyed the rest of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, the remaining pieces of his shattered soul, once and for all. For now, he had spent enough time wallowing in his grief. He would mourn the loss of everyone that Voldemort and his Death Eaters murdered when the fight was over. Squaring his shoulders, Harry stood and before the youngsters came into view, he strode quickly to the steps of the nearest train car and disappeared inside. He didn’t want to talk with anyone. Passing the empty compartment where he was to meet with George, he traversed the entire length of the train without meeting another soul; it appeared to be completely deserted. Choosing a compartment at the rear of the train, as far down the track away from the depot and the Express’ noisy engine as he could find, he pretended to sleep while he waited for Ron and Hermione to join him. |
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