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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: 10347; Chapter Total: 2638 |
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Chapter 3: Who’s Behind the Mask? Harry stared at the coiled snake branded into George’s wrist, his mind blank. He couldn’t think of a thing to say. It couldn’t be true. Maybe it was a hoax. George must have been on an undercover mission for the Order of the Phoenix where he had to pretend to be a Death Eater. Nothing else made any sense. He scrunched his eyes closed. Then, letting Ginny go for a moment, he rubbed his eyes thinking — no hoping — that he was still caught up in a nightmare. Opening his eyes, he stared into Ron’s horrified gaze. The room went almost pitch-black as the Express careened around a corner and into a tunnel. With the darkness came the presence of evil. Harry heard the almost silent swish of the door as it slid smoothly open; he felt the slight movement of air, heard the slither of silk dusting the threadbare carpet. Before he could react, the train hurtled out of the tunnel into bright sunshine. However, the sunlight did little to alleviate Harry’s dread that evil was near. Looking around the room, he found the door and windows secure and that no one else was present. In fact, he found nothing out of the ordinary, except that all four friends had their wands out and they were studying the compartment looking for any sign of danger. “Did you feel something?” asked Ron. Hermione nodded. “Yes. I still do.” “Me, too. There’s evil here, but I can’t believe that it is George. I will never believe that he was a Death Eater,” said Ginny, defiantly glaring at Harry. Shrugging off the feeling of evil, Harry held up his hands palms out. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say that he was. He must have been working for the Order.” “Harry, what are we going to tell Mum? We can’t let her see George with the Dark Mark on his wrist.” Tentatively, Ron reached out and rubbed the black spot that disfigured his brother’s skin. Harry didn’t get the chance to answer. Blaise Zambini knocked and opened the door in one motion. “The Head Boy sent me. He seems to think that you can solve this murder,” he sneered. Unfazed by the dead body in the middle of the floor, Blaise sauntered across the compartment and slouched on the far bench. Carelessly, he stretched both arms out wide and rested them on the back of the seat. With a mocking grin, he scoffed, “Ask your silly questions.” Harry reached over and twitched George’s black robe over the tell-tale mark on his arm. “What do you have to do with this?” “Well, you see, I was that last one to see this Blood-Traitor alive.” “Why you - ” snarled Ron. Blaise spoke right over Ron’s angry protest. “That is, except for you, Potter.” As the silence grew, an evil, jack-o-lantern toothy grin appeared. “You didn’t know that anyone saw you, did you?” Shaking off his lethargy, Harry stood. “I wasn’t anywhere near here. I was asleep in a compartment on the last car.” “No, I heard shouting and saw you and George screaming. At first, you were standing toe to toe glaring at each other, then you crossed your arms and backed up until you were sitting right here. It was really funny and made me laugh when a Weasley put the mighty Potter in his place. George caught me eavesdropping and waved his wand. He must have used a Silencing Charm, because after that I couldn’t hear anything else. Then, he pointed his wand at me. I thought that he was mad enough to Curse me, but all he did was draw the shades.” “You’re lying,” scoffed Ginny. Leaning back, he drawled, “Why would I lie?” “You’re trying to get Harry in trouble.” Ginny stood, a white knuckled fist resting on each hip as she glared at Blaise. “I know you’re lying because the shades were up when I walked past. That’s how I saw George fall.” “Think what you want. If it was my brother lying on that floor, I wouldn’t want the last person to be with him in charge of the investigation of his death. I’m trying to help you.” “Do you have anything else to add to your statement?” asked Hermione. “No. Isn’t that enough?” Blaise stood and stared at Harry. “I think that Potter killed George Weasley. Why were you fighting? Was George mad because you used his little sister and then dropped her so publicly? Not that the Weaselette didn’t deserve everything that happened, nevertheless, I’m sure that her family wouldn’t approve.” Beside him, Harry heard Ginny gasp. Before she could explode and send a hex at Blaise, he said, “Get lost. I didn’t kill George. I wasn’t here. I’m sure that many students saw me asleep in the last car and will support my alibi.” When Blaise left, Harry settled next to Ginny. “I really wasn’t here. I would never hurt George.” Ginny took his hand. “We know that Harry. Don’t let Blaise’s slander bother you.” With his hand still in Ginny’s, Harry stared around the room. They would be in King’s Cross soon. When they arrived, someone would have to tell Mr and Mrs Weasley that George was dead and they would see the mark on his wrist. He had to solve the murder before they arrived. Like Hogwarts, no one was able to Apparate on or off the train, but as soon as they reached the platform at nine and three quarters, the murderer would escape. Why was George carrying such a conglomeration of useless items? He didn’t have even one Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes item on him, and what he was carrying didn’t make any sense. Harry could understand the broken quill; George had probably broken it when he wrote the note. But that didn’t explain anything else. He had two wands. Why? Could the liquid really be Veritaserum? Maybe while under cover he was supposed to administer it to someone. Did his target find out? Was that why George was killed? Who was his target? Was it someone on the Hogwarts Express? Harry shook his head. Something was bothering him. That unattainable thought. Always just out of reach of his consciousness. A shadow covered in mist. He closed his eyes and willed the mist to fade. What was it about the items that he had removed from George’s pockets that troubled him so much? He was just about to reach for the bag to dump out the contents when Ron asked, “Why is the evidence bag floating like that?” As Harry turned to see what Ron was talking about, he heard a thud and felt the flow of air as if someone had rushed past. Jumping to his feet, he turned and sped out the door only to find the way blocked. “Something off the trolley, dear?” asked the Trolley lady. Harry shook his head. Looking beyond the trolley filled with sweets, he asked, “Did you see anyone run past?” “No, dear.” Pointing at the queue of students clustered around the sweets, she said, “As you can see, I’ve been quite busy. We pretty much block the corridor.” Hanging his head, Harry groaned. Mumbling to himself, his eyes roamed the corridor from where he stood to the trolley, until a muddy stain captured his attention. His mind skimmed through the clues as he slowly raised his eyes to meet Colin Creevey’s. “Hi ya Harry. I didn’t know you were on the train,” said Colin. “Hi Colin,” Harry said, an idea forming. “Would you mind taking a few pictures for me?” “I was about to eat.” Wrapping his arm around Colin’s shoulders, Harry affably tugged him towards compartment B. Once inside, he pushed him toward the far bench and said, “You can eat first. We don’t mind waiting.” In the short space of time that he was gone, Ginny had taken all of the items out of the bag and lined them up on the table. Harry unceremoniously, shoved them to the side, carefully palming the crystal vial, and motioned for Colin to place his sandwich and pumpkin juice on the table. Staring at the body lying on the floor, Colin pointed. “Who's that?” “My brother, George,” said Ron. “What happened?” Colin asked. “That’s what Harry is trying to find out,” stated Hermione. Harry clumsily held the vial and removed the stopper with one hand. He then poured three drops into Colin’s juice. “Where have you been since the train left the station, Colin? How come you didn’t know that George had been murdered?” Colin lifted his glass and took a small sip. “Well, we had heard a rumour, but we didn’t really believe it. I was in a compartment with Neville, Seamus and Lavender. Do you want me to go get them?” “No, it doesn’t matter.” Harry watched and waited for the Veritaserum, if it was Veritaserum, to take effect. He saw Ron and Hermione staring from him to Colin. As they were still on the floor next to George, he knew that they had a clear view of his hands and would understand. Under the edge of the table, he pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at the impostor. Harry grinned as Ron tugged his wand out of his robe using Hermione to shield his movements. He didn’t know with whom he was dealing, but he knew that the person sitting across from him wasn’t Colin. Colin wouldn’t have waited to take pictures until after he ate. He would have been all over the room, snapping pictures, hugging Ginny and offering his condolences while patting Ron clumsily on the back. He wouldn’t calmly sit and stare at a dead body while eating. He also knew that although Colin might have been in the compartment with Neville, Seamus and Lavender, because of the mud on his shoes and robes, the person before him had been in this compartment. After a few minutes, he tried again. “Where were you when the train left Hogsmeade?” “In here talking to him,” Colin said, pointing to the body on the floor. Harry nodded. Now they were getting somewhere. “Were you fighting?” Smiling, Colin took another drink. “No, he thought I was you.” So, Blaise had been telling the truth, or at least what he perceived to be the truth. “How is that possible?” With a smirk, Colin transformed to look like Harry. Ginny gasped. The new Harry turned and grinned. “It’s easy. I’ve been doing it for years.” “Did you also masquerade as Susan Bones?” “Yes.” With a giggle, Susan sat in front of them. “Why the different identities?” “I didn’t think that she,” she said pointing at Hermione, “would worry about Susan joining her in the loo. I was going to kill her, but she left before I got there.” “Why you - Incarcerous!” muttered Hermione. Susan sneered, “Do you think these will hold me?” “Expelliarmus!” said Harry, but as she wasn’t holding her wand, nothing happened. “Stupefy!” shouted Ron, stabbing his wand at Susan, who, after being hit with a Stunner, was now bent almost double, her body sagging towards the floor. “Who is she?” “I’m not sure,” said Harry. He rose and rifled through her pockets until he found her wand. He handed it to Ginny who was the furthest away from her. “Well, I’ve been reading up on Binding Spells, and I think that I can conjure some chains like the Aurors use. She shouldn’t be able to get out of them.” After another muttered incantation, large golden shackles appeared around Susan's ankles hobbling her to the floor and around her wrists chaining her to the wall, her arms above her head. “That should hold her,” Ron said sharing a smile with Harry. Ron and Harry carefully moved George out of her reach, and with everyone at a safe distance, Harry said, “Ennervate!” Pulling on the chains, she snarled, “Nasty little brats, my Lord will deal with you.” “Who are you?” asked Harry. “Haven’t you guessed?” she teased as she changed into Tonks, with her short bubble-gum-pink hair in disarray and her pert little turned up nose. She looked at them through Tonk's big blue eyes brimming with laughter. Ginny cried, “You’re lying. You’re not Tonks. She’s a sweet and caring person.” Harry didn’t believe it for a second. “Who are you really?” he demanded. She shuddered and tried to continue the lie, but the Veritaserum was too strong for her. She changed again. Slowly her hair grew out black as a raven’s wing, her eyes changed, the lids grew heavier, as the blue irises darkened until no light shone in them and Bellatrix Lestrange stood proudly before them. “You didn’t know that I’m a Metamorphmagus as well. It tends to run in families. But does it really matter who I am? You’re all dead.” “Why did you kill George?” cried Ginny. “He never hurt anyone. He liked to make people laugh.” “You silly little children still don’t understand. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a Wizard who couldn’t decide where his loyalties lay. He was weak. For a while, he worked for my Master, but when things got rough, he changed sides. Many people on both sides distrusted him, but neither side could ever be sure. I never trusted him. Even though my Master trusted him implicitly, I had my doubts. I watched and I waited for him to make a mistake. But he never did. I dropped my guard, until today.” “Enough, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Why was George pretending to be a Death Eater?” Nodding at the floor, she said, “That man was a Death Eater, he wasn’t pretending. Once a Death Eater - forever a Death Eater. My Master never lets you go.” “What did you fight about?” “You, Potter. He had something for you. Alas, I had to kill him before I found out what it was though. He figured out I wasn’t you.” “What did he say?” Her eyes rolling in disgust, she said, “He said that he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t the evil wizard that you thought he was; that the world was more important than the life of one wizard and, that it was the most difficult thing that he had ever had to do. I laughed then and he realised that he wasn’t talking to you. Before he could get his wand out, I killed him.” Harry nodded. “Then you wrapped yourself into an Invisibility Cloak and levitated George into an upright position. When you saw Ginny glance through the glass, you let him drop, making her believe that he died alone. When she came through the door, you calmly walked out and changed into one of the students. A brilliant plan. As long as you didn’t meet the person you were pretending to be, you were safe.” Staring at Bellatrix, he had the urge to Curse her. She had killed a dear friend. No - more like family - for nothing. She was wrong. He must have been acting a part; George had never been a Death Eater, and Harry would bet his life on it. “Clever. You almost got away with it, but you missed one thing. When you came in the compartment the first time pretending to be me, you stepped through the mud that George had tracked into the compartment. See the footprints and the dried mud on his shoes and robe. That was how I recognized you as the murderer. You have the same stains.” He turned away from evil personified and began to gather up George’s belongings. He planned to give them to Mrs Weasley or Fred. He was almost finished when he picked up the delicate golden cup. On the edge of his mind, the whisper of an idea was beginning to form. Something about this two-handled cup was important. He wished that he had Professor Dumbledore’s Pensieve handy. Holding the cup carefully by one of its finely wrought handles, he turned to Hermione to ask if she recognized it, when Bella screeched, “What are you doing with that cup. It belongs to my Master.” Harry stared at the gold cup in his hands and realised where he had seen it before. No wonder the Headmaster’s Pensieve came to mind, he had seen the cup for the first time when Professor Dumbledore had taken him into the memory of Hokey, Hepzibah Smith’s house elf. Voldemort had murdered Hepzibah Smith and let her tiny, frail, house elf accept the blame and go to prison just to get his hands on this cup. Professor Dumbledore believed it to be a Horcrux. How did George get his hands on it? The only way was if he had been in contact with Voldemort. Could he really be a Death Eater? Harry shook his head to dislodge that disrespectful thought. Walking over to George, Harry grasped his cold hand, the delicate cup cradled between their palms. What did it mean? What had George wanted to talk with him about? Maybe now was the time for him to tell Ginny, Ron and Hermione about the Owl from George. Carefully placing George’s hand back on his chest, Harry tugged on his robe to cover the Dark Mark and in doing so, dislodged the handkerchief resting over his face. He lifted the piece of fine linen to drape across the face of his friend, and the final piece of the puzzle was before him. No longer was George’s gently smiling face and shocking red hair beneath the swatch of fabric. The hair was as black as midnight, and shimmered just as Hagrid’s had with axle grease slathered on it. A long protruding nose stood at attention in the center of a pale face and thin lips that looked as if they had never learned to smile frowned even in death. Severus Snape. Was it the face of his sworn enemy, or with Helga Hufflepuff’s cup in Harry’s hand, a partner on the side of good? |
| Reviews 19 |
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