MetaFic

Chapter 2: Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition

After the Dark Magic Specialists left the Hufflepuff table, the two professors and the retired Auror stood. With a wand-wave, Albus stacked the house tables along the far wall near some of the Auror guards. He conjured up a simple round table with three comfortable chairs and a fourth straight-back wooden chair on the opposite side of the table.

Albus looked at Alastor. “You have the parchments with the signature recordings?” he said receiving an affirmative grunt. “Excellent. He called over to the anteroom guard “Auror Shacklebolt please bring card ten, Professor Snape, in for questioning.”

Kingsley opened the door to the anteroom and called for Professor Snape. A moment later Albus saw his Potions Master step through the doorway and pause to take in the radically changed Great Hall. The man’s normally pallid skin was flushed and his eyes flashed with indignant anger. Albus and Minerva shared a silent, disapproving, expression and watched him stride towards them. Alastor wore the slightest of a smirk on his face.

“What is the meaning of this Headmaster?” Snape spat. “I am aware of the pressure you are under to stop these attacks. However, the last this I expected from you was some sort of inquisition!”

Alastor gave a snorting laugh and replied “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!” Severus looked confused for a moment and then turned toward Alastor, peering intently at him. The old Auror gave another humorous snort. “Really Snape. Your Death Eater friends never told you that all Aurors have Occlumency training through Level Two? Some of us actually train far beyond that. But do continue. I find your attempts amusing.”

Severus’ eyes widened for a moment and he sat in the chair opposite Minerva.

Albus stared at his Potions Master and said gravely, “Severus is there anything you wish to tell us before we ask a few questions?”

“I am not sure what you mean, Headmaster,” the man replied cautiously.

“I see” Albus said with a disappointed sigh.

“Perhaps,” Minerva began primly, “we can start with your responsibilities as Head of Slytherin House.”

Severus glanced quickly in the direction of the shadowy Specialists. “Those,” he sneered, “question my actions as a head of house?”

“The conduct of staff and students here are beyond their purview. I am the one who has questions about your competency as a head of house,” Albus told him, forcing his voice to have only a slight edge of reprimand.

Severus reacted as if physically slapped.

“I authorized an unannounced inspection of all house common and dormitory rooms. This was done while all were here in the hall.” Albus slid one of the search result parchments across the small table to Severus. “As expected, every house had some sort of contraband in their rooms. This, however, is a list of items found in the Slytherin House rooms.”

Severus let an exasperated snort as he scanned the parchment. “Headmaster, I was not aware of these. None of the Heads of House can constantly be in the students’ private rooms.” He began to push the parchment back across the table towards Albus.

Alastor stopped him, loudly slamming his hand down upon the parchment. “All these are illegal, and some have no purpose other than Dark Magic. These were not hidden, Snape! They were in plain sight and obviously used! I have the evidence here to transfer the majority of Slytherin House from Hogwarts to Azkaban. And have their families join them, to boot!”

Severus stood abruptly, drawing the attention of the Aurors around the hall. Alastor also stood, moving with a speed and dexterity that seemed out of place for his gnarled appearance. His wand was pointed at the centre of Severus’ chest. The Aurors about the room’s circumference tensed, their hands moving to their wands.

“Do you question my competency, old man?” Severus hissed.

“No,” replied Alastor coolly, “I question your loyalties.” Brusquely he ordered “Uncover you left arm!”

Severus looked directly at Albus and cried out, “Headmaster, I object to this treatment!”

Albus knew he had to defuse this situation before heated emotions caused actions to spiral out of control. He stood slowly, joining the other two men. Holding the younger man’s gaze he answered “Do as he says, Severus.”

Severus looked back at Alastor and attempted to sneer at him. The look was not effective; he appeared more a man suddenly unsure of himself. Slowly he pulled the sleeve above his elbow.

Alastor’s left hand grabbed Severus’ wrist with a grip that made the younger man wince. He touched his wand tip to the centre of Severus’ arm. “Morsmorde,” he spat softly.

As Minerva gasped “What are you doing?” a malignantly black Dark Mark appeared on Severus’ forearm.

His sallow face became an expressionless mask, but Severus looked to Albus when the Headmaster spoke. Calmly, almost patiently, Albus said “I ask again, Severus is there anything you wish to tell me?”

Severus appeared to consider his words carefully before he spoke. “I do not know why this has reappeared. As far as I can ascertain, what remains of the Dark Lord fled England after his expulsion from Quirrell.”

Irritated by the non-answer Albus asked coldly “And yet you saw no need to inform me of your Mark’s reappearance?”

Smoothly Snape responded, “There is no reason for its reappearance, so I did not wish to trouble you while the current crisis was unresolved.”

His Potion Master’s evasiveness was wearing on Albus’ nerves. He knew the man was in a difficult position and would go the extra mile to assist him because of that. But was a simple answer so much to ask in return? “You do not think they might be connected? Voldemort was in Slytherin House as a student here. The messages on the wall speak of Slytherin’s heir and now we find a reappearance of Voldemort’s mark on your arm!”

“It is probably a mere coincidence,” Snape replied obsequiously.

At this Minerva snapped her voice frosty and harsh. “Your insolence is not appreciated, professor. The lives of the staff and students of this school are at grave risk, and you have an indication of Dark Magic present. You do not have the authority to decide what is and is not germane concerning the safety of this school!”

“This can’t be him!” Snape shouted back angrily, any attempt at maintaining a detached demeanour gone. The Aurors in the hall again stared over at the group around the small table, and Dumbledore saw several of them, wands drawn, take a few steps closer. “The Dark Lord is gone, there is nothing left of him but a faint Shade! The Potter’s spawn saw to that. At least the boy died quietly, saving us any additional pathetic, maudlin Potter worship.” Minerva hissed softly and Albus was certain she reached for her own wand. “There is nothing left of that charlatan’s prophecy!”

“Calm yourself professor,” Dumbledore said sternly, concerned that the Aurors had moved to positions covering the group at the small table and the rest of the Hall. “Whatever problems you once had with James Potter, when students, have no bearing on our crisis today.”

“This is preposterous,” Severus answered with an exasperated shout. “I am being persecuted because I was once a Death Eater. I had nothing to do with Quirrell, and I have nothing to do with what is happening now! My students and I are blameless regarding these attacks!”

“Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater,” Alastor sneered back. “You are not that stupid to believe otherwise. It is very clever of you to put a modifier on that statement, professor. Thanks the slanders by you and your ilk, Death Eater scum,” spat Alastor, “it will be decades before Wizards will not laugh at the words ‘blameless’ and ‘Slytherin’ in the same sentence.”

“One can not make an omelette without breaking eggs, Mad-Eye” Severus retorted unctuously. Staring the old Auror in the eye he smirked and continued “Because some have gone soft and lazy, and forsaken their and ambition is no reason to slander those who haven’t.”

Alastor turned to look at Albus while his magical eye, and wand, remained fixed on the potions professor. “This man’s ill-manners and insolence are unbefitting the status of professor at this school” he growled. You may have reason to trust him Albus, but I do not. Give me a valid reason why this… man… should not be behind Azkaban bars before the sun sets.”

Albus willed himself to regain control of this situation. The tension in the air was tangible. He motioned for the two other men to sit down, and slowly sat himself before they could. When they hesitated, he commanded “Everyone will calm down, and sit down, now!” He did not shout, but his voice carried throughout the hall.

As the two others sat with him he was relieved to see the Aurors move back against the walls. While some did not re-holster their wands the tension in the room did finally begin to ease. Minerva and Alastor looked at Severus for a few long and silent moments. Albus began to re-stick the parchment rolls on the table, taking several moments for everyone to focus on the simple clerical work rather that the heated words from a few moments ago. Quietly, and gravely, Albus began to speak to his colleagues.

“The reason why I place my trust in Severus has never changed.” Severus gave Alastor a satisfied smirk. “However, Severus, life is not static. You seem to think that trust for actions once is trust for actions always. People, places, and actions change with time. This means that the trust between people must be malleable, to allow for that change. Additionally, trust must extend both ways, and if so, will be malleable to the changes of life and time. Anything else and trust becomes quite brittle, shattering at the slightest blow.”

“Headmaster, surely you don’t -” Albus held up a hand and Severus fell silent.

“One of the reasons I value your presence at this school is because you have the potential to do great things, yet you forever turn back to relive old slights, fight old battles that should have and did end long ago.” Severus’ cheeks wore an uncharacteristically slight flush and his eyes flashed with anger. Annoyed at the younger man’s obstinate attitude, Albus’ voice was uncharacteristically hard and cold as he continued.

“I understand the pressure that you are under Severus. Head of Slytherin House is never a position for the foolish or unwary. I have allowed you wide discretion and latitude because of this and because of your talent and potential, but I can no longer afford you that latitude. You think laws and rules are for others, they are beneath you and beneath your students. This can no longer be. You think the safety of others, the staff and students at this school, outside yourself and your house is not your concern. This can no longer be. You think that trust is a one-way path, like a debt owed without reciprocity. This can no longer be.”

Cautiously Severus replied, “I am not certain what you mean, Headmaster.”

Severus’ attitude, coupled with the worries of the past several months, cracked Albus’ patience. He slammed his hand upon the table, causing the other three to jump and he seemed to crackle with energy.

“You are wiser than that, Severus” he spit angrily. “Do not take us for fools. This school is in grave peril. I will not, can not, afford the slightest of doubts about my staff. You leave me no other avenues. Swear the Unbreakable Vow to me, to my cause, now, or leave this school never to return. Alastor” he snapped, “I want you to do the binding, Minerva you are to be the witness.”

“The Unbreakable Vow?” Severus said in surprise. “Is this really… necessary?” he finished weakly.

“If you are the man you want me to think you are this is not a difficult choice.”

Severus sat very still, pinned by Albus’ stare. After a few moments, Alastor turned and began to motion for several Aurors to approach the table. Noting the movement, Albus felt sadness at the situation before Severus suddenly said, “I will swear to your Unbreakable Vow!”

Pondering for a moment if he was actually wrong about someone, Albus shook his head slowly. “The Vow is not mine Severus, it is ours. Do you even know the difference?”

Snape’s schooled mask of indifference slipped for a moment. Hesitantly he reached out and offered his hand to Albus. Taking it, he nodded to Alastor, who raised his wand over their joined hands.

“Will you, Severus Snape, swear to be bound by Ministry laws and Hogwarts instruction to report all Dark Magic and illicit objects and spells that affect this school its staff and students, and take appropriate actions against all Hogwarts banned objects?”

“I will,” replied Snape.

A thin tongue of flame shot out of Alastor’s wand tip and wrapped around their joined hands.

“Will you, Severus Snape, swear to place the safety and well being of all students and staff of Hogwarts above personal ambitions and petty grievances?”

Again Snape replied, “I will,” although he looked like he swallowed something bitter. Another fiery chain encircled their hands and wrists.

“Will you, Severus Snape, swear unconditional and complete loyalty to me, my orders, and the goals I wish to attain for this school, its staff and students, and for the Wizarding World?”

Severus gave him an uncertain look. Albus again pinned him with his stare and warned “Now or never, Severus.”

“I will,” Snape said slowly not taking his eyes off Dumbledore.

The third strand of fire emerged with the other two, flared and then faded.

“I want to know of any change whatsoever in the behaviour of your Mark. Any change. Is that clear, Professor Snape?”

Solemnly Severus responded “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Thank you, Severus; you are free to proceed with your duties.”

“Headmaster, what of the others who were assigned cards, especially students from my house?”

Alastor gave Albus a hard look.

“You will cooperate with the Aurors searching and cataloguing the banned items from Slytherin House. I expect all my Heads of House to provide me a report on their students tomorrow morning.”

The professor stood but did not leave the table. “That does not answer my question Headmaster. What of the other students and Professor Sprout?” he asked, his voice regaining its obsequious tone.

“Why those students, beyond the four from Slytherin, were assigned a card is not your concern. Additionally students found in violation of Ministry law and school regulations will be punished as prescribed by law and rule. I will brief the entire staff on the items I think are important to the school as a whole. Other matters will be handled privately.”

Severus looked up in surprise. “Privately?” he asked warily.

“Privately for now, at least,” Albus said. “Do not forget the Vow Severus. You have your duties to attend to, so good evening professor.” With this dismissal he handed the professor a parchment with the list of Slytherin infractions and his wand.

Severus glanced at the parchment and then rolled it up and stuffed it in a robe pocket. He nodded at the curt dismissal and proceeded out the door.

“Well that was as enjoyable as a boggart in the loo cupboard,” Alastor sighed. “I still think you are far too lenient with that man. You mark my words, Albus; he will be the death of you yet!”

“We knew the first case would be the most difficult one,” admonished Albus.

Minerva looked at the two men, her eyes flinty and lips pursed to a thin line. “None of these are going to be easy, Albus,” she said with clipped words. “May I remind you that are as many students in Gryffindor as in Slytherin received cards? And one of my prized students is included!” she hissed.

“Let us finish this quickly then,” Albus said, the weariness weighing him down. “We have another professor, as well as a room full of children with nothing to do. I find that youth and idleness are often a volatile mixture.” He asked Kingsley to bring Professor Sprout to the table.

Pomona Sprout approached the round table pale and nervous. She looked at the three others, “I don’t know what I have that holds Dark Magic. Albus, I… I am quite embarrassed by this all. What must my students think of me?”

Alastor looked at the next parchment in the stack before him. “Pomona,” he said in a soft rumble, “The necklace you wear gives the indication of being a Dark object.”

She gasped and brought her hand to her neck. “You have to be wrong! This necklace has been in my family for at least five generations. It was given to me when I turned seventeen, and I’ve been wearing it ever since. Albus, if this is truly Dark, what have I been doing? Oh Merlin! I’m not responsible for all this, am I?” she finished fretfully.

“If I may, Pomona?” Dumbledore held his hand out to her. She blinked, confused for a moment and then, reaching behind her neck, unclasped the necklace. He took it from her and began to cast a series of spells upon the necklace.

Seeing her colleague’s eyes cloud with worry, Minerva leaned forward saying softly, “This is merely a series of spells used by Gringotts curse breakers. These spells tell the caster what sort of magic to expect when breaking a curse.”

“Breaking a curse?” Pomona anxiously whispered.

Albus frowned in intense concentration, casting spells for over a minute. He stopped, sat back in his chair and appraised the necklace thoughtfully. It was a magnificent piece of Charms work. Nodding to himself he smiled faintly.

“Very ingenious. Five generations you say?” he asked rhetorically. Addressing his Herbology professor directly he said, “There is nothing Dark about this, although it’s… ah… aura… its aura might appears so. This is charmed to act as a shield against Legilimency.”

“Legilimency? Why…?”

“I imagine one of your ancestors thought it prudent that a young lady be able to keep her most intimate thoughts private,” Dumbledore continued to smile.

“Then is it safe to continue to wear? I’m not harming myself, or anyone else?”

“Oh no. Perfectly safe to wear, although rather frustrating for any unscrupulous Legilimens you might run across. I take it you will confer this to your niece when she is of age?” Pomona nodded. “Good! You ought to tell her what it does.” He handed the necklace back to her and she peered at it for a moment before re-clasping it about her neck.

“Go ahead and check on your students; let them know everything is fine” Albus assured her. “The students from Hufflepuff had contraband on them, not Dark objects. I do expect you to take care of this.” He handed her a parchment with the list of Hufflepuff house infractions and her wand. She looked at the parchment, frowned and nodded. “I’ll send along the charge list for your other students when we are through here. Good evening Pomona and thank you for your patience.”

She looked at Albus, grateful relief clearly reflected in her eyes. She stood and took her wand and the infractions parchment. She began to frown again as she began to read it closely while walking away.

Albus felt Alastor lean behind him and tap Minerva on the shoulder. “Why do I have more confidence in her righting her students than I do the other professor questioned tonight?”

Minerva showed no sign of emotion and deigned not to answer his implied acquisition. Albus looked at him and shook his head slowly. “We must treat everyone the same regardless of our personal feelings Alastor. We should not stoop to the level of the blood-bigots of a decade ago.”

Moody snorted and replied “A very altruistic sentiment Albus. And how many lives did that loose us in the last war? Of course we can stoop to their level. The trick is not to stay there.”

“That attitude will not help me with questioning the students waiting in the other room. I need your unbiased opinions. If I can not expect that I must ask you to leave.”

Alastor looked like he thought that statement over for a moment and then he gave an eloquent shrug. “These children may yet be diverted from Dark Magic Albus. We agree there. But for those who already bear Voldemort’s mark, we will always disagree. With a determined sigh he continued “Let’s get this over with shall we? I’ll have Kingsley fetch the first student.” Waving to the tall Auror, Alastor muttered, “These first few ought to be quite interesting.”

Minerva gave a sniff that sounded faintly approving as Albus gave an exasperated sigh and once again pinched the bridge of his nose.

Draco Malfoy, carrying his book bag, approached the table with a wary expression.

“Place your bag next to the chair, and sit in the seat, Mr. Malfoy” Minerva said crisply.

Malfoy did as he was told, sitting somewhat anxiously at the front edge of the chair. “I have nothing to do with whatever is attacking Mu… err… Muggle-borns, Professor. Perhaps,” he said with a faintly sarcastic tone, “you should be looking for that.”

Minerva stiffened at the boy’s insolent manner. Albus merely nodded, “That search is the purpose for today’s activities. It has uncovered a number of illegal spells and items, as well as some Dark ones too.”

“What does this have to do with me?” the boy asked, sounding every bit as anxious as he suddenly looked.

“There are several… unusual traces of magic about you Mr. Malfoy. I will examine them now, so please remain still.”

Albus slowly brought his wand up and pointed the tip over the boy’s head. Malfoy immediately leapt to his feet and jumped back behind the chair.

“My father will hear of this attack, Professor!” he exclaimed nervously.

“Sit down boy, and be silent!” Alastor growled. “Do you honestly think this school’s Headmaster would attack a student? Let alone attack a student in a room surrounded by Aurors? I find it interesting you consider a simple examination spell an attack.” Malfoy remained standing so Alastor commanded “Sit!” He looked down at the chair while his magical eye remained fixed on Malfoy’s face. As before, with Severus, several Aurors began to approach the table with this outburst.

Clearly frightened by the remorseless stare of the magical eye, and the Aurors coming toward him, Malfoy returned to his seat. Albus made a series of sweeping wand motions above and around the boy, careful not to point the wand tip directly at him.

“Interesting,” he muttered to himself. “Mr. Malfoy,” he said aloud, “please answer my questions completely and honestly. That will speed you on your way back to your friends in the Slytherin common room. What is the purpose for the glamour charm with an illegal narcotic enticement spell? These are quite unusual to see on a child as young as yourself.”

Malfoy stiffened at the word “child” but he coolly replied, “This is a combination spell meant for my intended. Surely, Professor, you know that the more traditional pureblood families still use this with arranged marriages. The enticement spell is not illegal; it is quite common in Moldova.”

“Ah. I see. Well, Mr. Malfoy, surely your parents know that glamour charms are banned on the school grounds.” With that Albus picked up his wand. As he made several sharp slashing motions it appeared that a sheer curtain dropped from around Malfoy. The boy’s platinum blonde hair lost its effulgence and appeared slightly dishevelled. His skin was no longer pale but became pasty and his posture appeared slightly stooped.

“Hey!” whined Malfoy as he looked at his hands with their uneven and dirty nails. “What did you do?”

“I have removed the glamour and enticement spells. They may be all the rage, as it were, in Moldova, Mr. Malfoy, but you are in England, where it is illegal,” Albus lectured.

“Now let’s move to something far more serious. Please place the wand up your sleeve on the table.”

Malfoy looked puzzled for a moment then schooled his features into a patently faux innocent look. “The Aurors confiscated my wand sir. I haven’t received it back.”

“We have that wand Mr. Malfoy, now place the second wand on the table” Minerva said impatiently.

The Malfoy boy looked alarmed and hesitantly reached for his robe sleeve then stopped.

“Mr. Malfoy, if you do not produce that other wand immediately, I will have Auror Moody remove it from your person,” warned Albus. Alastor smiled, but his scarred face did not make the smile appear reassuring.

The young man quickly pulled the other wand from his sleeve and dropped it on the table, next to the one Albus had set there. Minerva and Alastor watched as Albus ran his wand over this second wand. He did this several times, pausing between each pass to stare at his own wand tip.

“This is not an Ollivander wand,” he said finally. Malfoy sat mute, his eyes regained a wary look. “Only in rare instances are second wands allowed, Mr. Malfoy, were you aware of that?”

“They are allowed at Durmstang…sir,” he replied.

Alastor glanced at Albus but said nothing. Albus noticed the look and let out a weary sigh.

“This is not Durmstrang, Mr. Malfoy. Throughout most of the Wizarding world, second wands are illegal unless approved by that government’s head of law enforcement. Even then, it is almost always for officers within their law enforcement departments. Those approvals are forwarded to the International Confederation of Wizards, and the wand bearers then must carry the letter of writ with the authorization. As head of the Confederation, I am unaware of any such approval for any member of the Malfoy family, nor are you an Auror.”

Malfoy’s expression did not change, but his pasty skin now appeared mottled.

“The punishment for such an offence - ”

“Punishment?” Draco asked fearfully.

“Yes, punishment,” Albus continued, “is a one thousand galleon fine and a year in Azkaban. The wand is also destroyed. Auror Shacklebolt, may I inconvenience you to come here?” He handed the wand to Kingsley when he got to the table. The tall Auror was about to break it when Alastor Moody and the Malfoy boy both shouted, “Wait!”

Glaring at Malfoy Alastor said menacingly “You have no say in this boy.” Turning to Kingsley he asked, “Before you destroy this, may I examine it?”

The Auror looked to Albus who nodded.

Alastor took the wand and touched its tip to his own. “Priori Incantatem,” he said. The echoes of a number of spell issued forth, all advanced for a second year and many lethal if used on a person or beast. As he handed the wand back to Kingsley he again glared at the Malfoy boy.

With a sharp snap, Kingsley broke the wand. Handing the two pieces back to Albus he said, “I shall inform Madam Bones of this action. Will I be taking the suspect to the Ministry for formal sentencing and transfer to Azkaban?”

“Azkaban?” Malfoy whispered, horrified.

Albus held up his hand, stopping any further action by Kingsley. “This is a first offence, and Mr. Malfoy is underage. As the Supreme Mugwump, I waive the requirement of confinement to Azkaban.”

Relief flooded Malfoy’s face, but was quickly replaced by a wary look. “And the fine, Professor?”

“The fine shall still be levied, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Are we done, sir?” asked Malfoy, a hint of his earlier insolent attitude returning.

“Not quite, Mr. Malfoy. I wish to examine the signet ring on your right hand, and there is the punishment for the various infractions to award.”

“My family’s crest? What is it to you?” Malfoy demanded.

“Place it on the table.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Malfoy! Do as Professor Dumbledore ordered. Now!” Minerva said, clearly outraged and weary of the boy’s behaviour.

The boy angrily removed the ring and dropped it onto the table. Albus did not pick it up, but again waved his wand about the ring using the Gringotts spell detection sequence. When finished he regarded Malfoy with a sad look. He tapped the ring and said, “Solvere.”

As the ring became a puddle of liquid gold, Malfoy shouted, “What did you do?” in stunned horror.

“That was a Dark object, young man. Its purpose is to take your ambition and cunning, which are admirable attributes, and subvert them to a narrow purpose of purely personal gain, regardless of the cost.”

“That ring has been in my family for generations,” Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Alastor muttered to no one.

Ignoring the retired Auror, Albus told Kingsley, “I will provide Madam Bones with a summary of this action, and the discipline awarded this student here at the school. Beyond the fine for the wand, it is up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to levy punishment on the family as they see fit. I will do likewise for all the other detainees here today”

“Discipline?” Draco asked indignantly, “My family is fined, a charm removed, a wand broken, and an heirloom destroyed. What further punishment can there be?” Malfoy sat back in the chair, his arms folded defiantly across his chest.

Alastor gave another exasperated snort and shook his head. Albus looked to Minerva, giving her a slight nod and then sat back in his chair.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said crisply, “you are assigned detention beginning this weekend and continuing through to the final weekend of this term. Every Saturday and Sunday you will report to Mr. Filch after breakfast and continue under his supervision until the evening meal. You will surrender you wand to him and clean the castle. Without magic.”

“Cleaning?” spat Malfoy, “That’s servant work!”

“Perhaps you prefer the year in Azkaban?” Alastor asked politely. The boy’s irritation promptly deflated.

“Finally…” Minerva continued with a forced patience, “I will be sending a letter to your parents outlining the various offences and punishments. Is there anything else, Headmaster?”

Albus shook his head. He handed the originally confiscated wand back to the boy. “You are dismissed Mr. Malfoy. Collect your bag, an Auror will escort you to the Slytherin common room.”

The three adults watched as Malfoy petulantly stomped off with Kingsley, who handed him off to another Auror and returned to the table.

“Do you wish me to remain at the table, Headmaster?” Kingsley said in a formal tone

“I do not think it necessary,” replied Albus.

“But be vigilant,” Alastor cut in with a grimace.

Albus frowned at the old Auror who asked Kingsley to bring out the next student. Pansy Parkinson came out and marched directly over to the round table, where she stood with the chair to her side.

“Please sit down, Miss Parkinson,” Albus said as he looked at the parchment before him. “You are wearing an illegal narcotic enticement spell and…” he paused, looked down at the parchment again then said incredulously, “and essence of veela?”

Parkinson sniffed loudly. “The charm is only for my betrothed. It is commonly used by proper families on the Continent. There is nothing wrong with that. A little veela essence isn’t wrong either, a girl needs to use every advantage she can to get what she wants,” she finished with an unconvincing innocent smile.

“Miss Parkinson, you are quite too young for that!” Minerva answered disapprovingly.

Parkinson looked at her with the slightest of smirks and replied politely “A woman is never too old for anything she wants Professor.”

“Yes, well...” interjected Albus as his Deputy’s lips became a razor thin line on her face. “Who might your betrothed be?”

“Draco Malfoy,” she replied proudly.

Albus looked at her for a moment then nodded slowly. “A union between the Malfoys and the Parkinsons; that is a very prudent business and political merger. Unfortunately, the enticement spell is banned from the school grounds and illegal in England regardless.” As with the young Malfoy, he moved his wand about her in a series of movements. When he finished the falling curtain effect surrounded her too.

“What did you do?” she cried, her formerly melodious voice acquiring a screechy quality.

In a clipped tone Minerva said, “Miss Parkinson, what part of illegal substance did you not understand?”

“But -”

“And hand me the veela essence bottle too.”

Pulling a vial out of her bag Parkinson lectured the Deputy Headmistress, “Be careful with that, it is very expensive you know.”

Minerva took the vial and rolled her eyes pleadingly to the rafters for a moment. Albus took a closer look back at the girl and sadly noticed neither her hair, now a mousy dark brown instead of shiny black, nor her teeth retained their appearance of perfection. “I will send your parents a letter explaining why the enticement charm was lifted, and the veela essence confiscated. There is also the matter of the two hundred Galleon fine from the Ministry -”

“Two hundred Galleon fine! For what?” she gasped.

“- You will also be serving detention -”

“Detention too?” she whispered now looking stunned.

“- Detention with Mr. Filch, all day Saturday and all afternoon on Sunday -” Parkinson’s eyes went wide. “- from this week through the commencement of the spring break -” Parkinson was now shaking her head in denial “- cleaning the castle without magic.”

“Cleaning, without magic!” The girl shrieked so loud that Aurors from the furthest part of the hall looked over to the table.

“Miss Parkinson! You will mind your voice inside this school” Minerva scolded

The Parkinson girl appeared to visibly deflate. Then she looked up at the Deputy Headmistress and meekly asked, “Do I get the vela essence back after I have finished my detention?”

“Miss Parkinson, this… essence… is now confiscated, it is a banned substance and you will not get it back. If I ever catch you with something like this essence again, I will recommend your expulsion to the Headmaster. Have. I. Made. Myself. Clear?”

She nodded her eyes now wide and fearful.

As Albus returned Miss Parkinson’s confiscated wand, Alastor motioned for Kingsley again. “Auror Shacklebolt, would you be kind enough to find this young lady an Auror to escort her back to her common room?”

After the pair left Alastor quickly asked, “Are they all going to be like this? I am beginning to feel quite grateful I didn’t take you up on your offer for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship here.”

Albus sighed. “Kingsley, please bring out Mister ah… Higgs.”

An upper form boy in Slytherin robes came out. Dropping his bag next to the empty chair he sat down without invitation. “Your name?” Alastor asked.

“Terence Higgs… sir.”

“Mr. Higgs, I believe you have a vial of Strengthening Solution in your bag. Please place it on the table,” requested Albus.

Minerva eyed the bottle and then the boy with overt suspicion. “This is usually something prescribed by Madame Pomfrey. For what would you need a Strengthening Solution?”

“To ah… to improve my physical condition. Professor.”

Now Minerva was sitting ramrod straight and glaring at the boy. “You are a beater on the Slytherin team!” Turning to Albus she said, “I want this boy banned from Quidditch for the remainder of this season. He can join the other two of his housemates in detention. And fifty points from Slytherin for blatant cheating!”

“You can’t ban me!” Mr. Higgs barked back at her.

“You are right, Mr. Higgs,” said Albus. Minerva whipped around to look at him so fast her necked cracked. “But I can.” Holding up the vial, he continued, “If this were an inquisition in the professional league, you would be banned for life because of this. I doubt any other country would be willing to take you on either. Consider yourself lucky this is a partial season ban. You will be joining Mr. Malfoy in detention until the end of term. He can explain the particulars to you.”

“What am I supposed to tell Professor Snape?” the young Slytherin asked, glaring quickly at Minerva.

“You, Professor Snape, Madam Hooch and I will be having a long discussion about this tomorrow. How you broach this news to Professor Snape is not my concern” she finished, her words spoken in a cold, crisp elocution.

Albus nodded in agreement. “That is something between you and your Head of House, Mr. Higgs. I will also owl your father with this news.” The boy’s face went completely pale. He accepted his returned wand, grabbed his bag, and rose from his chair.

Without turning around Alastor called out, “Mr. Higgs, be sure an Auror escorts you back to your common room. You don’t need any more trouble.”

As the door closed, Alastor turned to Albus. “After this last Slytherin student, I want some of the Aurors to stand down for dinner and rotate the guard positions. It’s hard to remain vigilant when acting as nothing more than a glorified minder.”

“Why now? There are still other students to question.”

“Oh Merlin Albus! Look at these remaining parchments. After the Slytherin thugs everyone else-”

“Alastor, I will not have any one house ostracized for the behaviour of a few students.”

“You are being a fool, Albus!” the Auror warned. “Look at the violations from each house. Look! Yes, each has a similar number of transgressions. But I think there is a considerable difference between violating that pillock Filch’s naughty toy list, and committing an offence that comes with a sentence in Azkaban! Minerva agrees with me on this, don’t you?”

The Deputy Headmistress shot him a withering glare. “Do not involve me in this discussion Alastor.”

“You see Albus? That means she agrees with me completely, but doesn’t want to argue with her immediate superior.” Minerva sniffed in annoyance, but Albus saw the corners of her mouth rise in the faintest of smiles.

He sat and stared out a window into the waning twilight. Having fresh eyes about the castle was a good idea, as was Aurors in the Great Hall who had not been involved with the previous stressful interrogations. “I can see your idea has merit. I’ll let Kingsley make his personnel changes after we have talked to Mister, ah… Mister Flint.”

A large brutish looking boy stepped into the Great Hall, then stopped and looked around carefully. Albus called out, “Mr. Flint, please take a seat at this table. Bring your bag and set it next to you on the floor.”

After he sat down, Alastor looked him over carefully and then glared at the parchment before Albus. “Mr. Flint, remove the vial of Centaur blood from your bag and place it on the table.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” the boy replied smoothly.

Alastor kept both eyes fixed on the boy, snorting in disgust. “I have had a long day so far, Mr. Flint. I don’t need you making it any longer. Put the vial on the table right now or I will have the Aurors make a very detailed search of your bag.” Flint’s eyes flashed in panic for a moment before he reached quickly into his bag. He placed the contraband vial on the table.

“Blood used for certain enchantments and spells is considered Dark Magic, Mr. Flint. Explain yourself,” Albus demanded.

“No sir, professor. This isn’t for any spells or such.”

“Then what purpose does it serve Mr. Flint?” Minerva said icily.

“It’s for ah… ah… strength professor.”

Albus noticed his Deputy’s lips grow razor thin again and knew if this Slytherin boy was cheating at Quidditch too, she might hex him on the spot. “I am unaware of any solutions or potions, Dark or otherwise, that require Centaur blood.”

Albus felt Alastor clasp his shoulder. Alastor stared at the boy for a moment and then began to tap his wand tip on the table. “Boy, I am an old man who doesn’t like to sit for long periods of time. Playing twenty questions is wasting my time. It makes me a bit tetchy, you could say.” He deliberately spun this magical eye at high speed. “I don’t think you want me tetchy. So just answer the bloody question!” he snapped.

Looking embarrassed, the boy answered in a whisper “It’s uh… it’s a uh… virility aid… sir.”

Alastor snorted softly in amusement, while Minerva pursed her lips even thinner and pinned him with a disapproving stare.

“Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Flint” Albus said. “Now I must be honest with you. Centaur blood is illegal to own or use by any method. There is a five hundred Galleon fine that is levied for the possession of this blood.”

The young man sucked in a breath. “That’s not fair professor!”

“How fair do you think the Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest would be if they were to learn that this was in your possession?” The Flint boy now went white. “Yes, Mr. Flint. Remember this if you are so tempted to procure some more in the future. This vial and blood shall be destroyed. In addition to the five hundred Galleon fine, you will be joining your classmates in detention with Mr. Filch for the rest of the year.”

“What about N.E.W.T.s? I have to study.”

“Your concern for academics, while somewhat belated, is admirable. Your detention will be on the weekend days only. You will still have weekdays and weekend evenings to revise.”

Flint opened his mouth to answer but apparently thought the better of it. He stared at the adults for a moment longer. Answering Albus he said “Yes, professor. Is there anything else sir?”

“No, Mr. Flint. I have your wand and you are free to leave. Collect your bag and an Auror will escort you back to the Slytherin common room.” Taking his bag the boy rose to his feet and lumbered toward the Aurors by the Entrance Hall doors.

After he left Albus raised and whirled his wand. The Hufflepuff house table moved back to its normal place in the Hall and a selection of sandwiches and drinks appeared on it.

Alastor glanced at Albus and nodded approvingly. “Kingsley,” he called, “Go ahead and rotate your people. Let’s start getting them fed.”

“While you are seeing to that, please have someone bring out the next student” Albus requested.

A tall, handsome boy wearing both prefect and Quidditch Captain badges came out and walked over to the professor’s table. “Mr. Diggory, set your bag down and please have a seat.” Albus looked at the parchment before him and frowned. “I ask you to remain still for a few moments while I test you.” As with Slytherin students he moved his wand about Diggory boy and then tapped it on the palm of his hand. He frowned again and then asked “Mr. Diggory, are you a politician?”

The boy looked slightly embarrassed and replied, “No, sir. May I ask why you think that?”

“You are under a Tangible Trust Extension Charm. That is usually found on politicians to bolster their popularity. Unfortunately this charm is banned at Hogwarts.” Albus traced an inverted arc over the boy with his wand. Mr. Diggory sat and looked at his two professors. Albus smiled to himself when he saw no change in the boy after the Charm was lifted.

“You are one of the last students at this school who need a charm like this. Professor Sprout will be informed of this infraction; I will be owling your parents regarding this, and for the next four Saturdays and Thursday evenings you will report to Professor Flitwick for detention.” Returning the boy’s wand Albus bid him a good evening.

“Mr. Diggory, please see an Auror to escort you to your common room,” added Minerva.

Albus motioned for the next student to come forth.

A young lady, also in Hufflepuff colours, came out and timidly approached the professor’s table. Albus asked her to set her bag by the chair and take a seat.

“Your name Miss?” asked Alastor.

“Craddock sir, Caroline Craddock.”

“Miss Craddock, you have a potion vial in your bag I wish to examine, please place it on the table now,” Albus ordered.

The girl paled but reached into her bag and brought out a sealed cruet containing a pale pink liquid. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed the cruet on the table. Albus tapped the glass vial and began the routine used by Gringotts' curse breakers. He paused, gave the girl a severe frown and went through the routine a second time. When finished he huffed to himself and again frowned at the girl.

“Miss Craddock is there any reason you have an addictive love potion in your possession?” he asked. The girl started to say something then closed her mouth and shook her head.

“Is this potion yours, Miss Craddock?” Minerva inquired.

She looked at the Deputy Headmistress and nodded.

Minerva continued “Then I ask you, Miss Craddock, for what purpose do you have this potion?”

The Hufflepuff girl went from pale to a pink flush almost instantly and whispered, “Because Reginald DeWitt would never notice me otherwise.”

“Miss Craddock,” Albus responded, “The use of a narcotic love potion is illegal, let alone banned from this school.” The young lady blushed a deeper shade of pink. “Possession of this type of potion carries a one hundred Galleon fine and one month’s confinement in Azkaban.” The girl gasped in shock, her blushed face suddenly turned pale again.

Albus felt Alastor touch his arm and then say with unusual compassion “If I may, Headmaster, I can do nothing about the fine; that is an administrative punishment by the Ministry. However, if Miss Craddock were to deliver this potion immediately to Madam Pomfrey, so she can create the antidote for the boy in question, there need not be any reason for a stay in Azkaban. What disciplinary action she receives for violating Hogwarts rules is, of course, beyond my authority.”

“Thank you, sir,” Miss Craddock said softly.

Albus looked at Alastor and quirked an eyebrow, the old Auror ignored him so he turned his attention back to eth girl. “Well, Miss Craddock, there still is the punishment for violating school rules. Professor McGonagall will be sending an owl to your parents outlining what has transpired and the one hundred Galleon fine,” the girl nodded once again. “You will also be given detention with Mr. Filch every Saturday from now until the end of term. You will surrender your wand and be cleaning the castle under his supervision.”

Miss Craddock gasped, but seemed resigned to her fate.

“I will let Professor Sprout handle the specifics, but you will tell Mr. DeWitt what you were doing to him.”

“Oh no! I can’t do that, Professor,” she cried as her eyes became wide. “I’d rather go to Azkaban than live with that shame.”

“Miss Craddock, you would never make such a statement if you knew the true horrors of that place,” Alastor said gravely. Still wide eyed and pale, the girl looked at the retired Auror for a moment before lowering her gaze and letting a quiet sob escape.

Albus motioned for Kingsley. Gently he told him, “Return this wand to her and then have an Auror escort Miss Craddock to the infirmary. She is to deliver this potion to Madame Pomfrey. Instruct the escorting Auror to wait outside the doors while she does so, and then take her to the Hufflepuff common room.”

Watching her leave Albus quietly said to the others, "It is I who should be ashamed. I have not been diligent enough in policing the school. Minerva, please put that on the agenda for the next staff meeting. We must begin to address this now with the opportunity our… ah… Specialists have provided us.” Looking over to the lead Auror he said, “Kingsley, the next student please.”

A tall boy wearing a Ravenclaw prefect badge entered the room and walked to the table.

“Mister Turing, good afternoon,” Albus said.

“Good afternoon to you, sir,” the prefect replied politely.

“One can only hope it remains so at the finish,” Albus responded wryly. “Mr. Turing, please place the potion bottles from your bag on the table.” The boy immediately reached in and brought out two vials. “What are these for, Mister Turing?”

“One is a mild sleeping potion Madam Pomfrey prescribed.”

“You are having trouble sleeping?” asked Minerva.

The young man blushed a bit and said “Yes Ma’am. N.E.W.T.s are less than four months from now, and I am having trouble focusing on my revising.”

“Ah. That can be a problem,” added Albus soberly. “And the second potion is…?”

“A photographic memory potion to aid my retention of facts.”

“Mr. Turing!” Minerva snapped. “This is a banned substance at this school! There is no purpose for this except for cheating in examinations,” she finished in outrage.

“But, Professor,” he said desperately, “This is not for any test. I need help in sorting all reference material and retaining the pertinent facts. With N.E.W.T.s so close I need the help to focus my revisions.”

Albus stared at the boy for a moment. There was no guile in his demeanour; he was honestly trying to improve his revision habits. He steepled his fingers and gazed up to the rafters of the Hall. Folding his hands on the table before him he told the prefect, “Mr. Turing, while your aims are admirable the means are questionable. How long have you been taking this potion?”

“Since Christmas, Professor. I order it directly from the apothecary near my home. It isn’t illegal.”

“You are correct, it is not illegal, but it is banned here at the school. Unscrupulous students can use it to ensure a test grade they never could achieve on their own. Tell me, how is your retention of information from your first week of taking the potion?”

“It isn’t as good as I had hoped sir, but I clearly remembered more than before I began using it. I think it is a matter of me organizing better for retention.”

Albus smiled slightly. “Mr. Turing, the potion has a very short term effect. It cannot replace study and scholastics. What you retain from over a month ago is due to your efforts, not the potions’ effects. I will confiscate this vial and warn you not to attempt such a stunt again. Professor McGonagall will be owling your parents and also informing them of your detention. You will be reporting to Madam Pince for the next four Saturday evenings, to assist her in re-cataloguing a series of reference books used to prepare N.E.W.T. level students for their final tests. I will inform Professor Flitwick of these actions. I return your wand and you are free to go; an Auror will escort you back to the Ravenclaw common room.”

As the Ravenclaw prefect left the Great Hall, Albus looked down at the list of students left to question. With a slight smile he told Minerva “These next two should be entertaining.”

Alastor looked over at the list and chuckled. “Arthur’s twins? He and Molly have had their work cut out for them with those two from what I hear.” Minerva gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.

One of the Weasley twins came out of the anteroom. Albus allowed himself another slight smile as he watched the boy’s apparently complete nonchalance while walking over to the table. Only someone with years of experience at reading body language would notice the wary set to his eyes.

“Please be seated, Mr. Weasley,” Minerva said. “Set you bag on the floor next to your chair.”

After he settled into the chair Albus asked him to set his tin of Peruvian Darkness Powder in the table. “How did you come by possession of this powder, Mr. Weasley?”

“I ordered it, professor. The apothecary shop in Hogsmeade has a foreign items catalogue. According to Ministry guidelines it isn’t illegal, and it isn’t on the list of banned substances at the school.” Alastor gave Albus and Minerva a significant look.

“What you say is true, Mr. Weasley, but this is a rather unusual item to order, is it not?” said Minerva.

“Well…” The boy paused a moment, obviously considering his answer. “Well professor Fred and I –“

“You are Fred, Mr. Weasley,” Albus interrupted.

Fred Weasley stopped and appeared gob smacked for a brief moment, and then his face regained its original blasé look. “Right, sir. Anyway, George and I told Mum we would work to bring up our potions marks, what with O.W.L.s next year and all. We are doing some ah… extra credit research on the properties of the powder.”

“Extra credit research? I am sure Professor Snape was astounded by this request,” Minerva said in surprise.

“Yes, well, this isn’t anything for Professor Snape’s class. At least not directly.”

Intrigued by this response Albus leaned forward and asked, “If this isn’t for school, what is it for?”

“Professor, George and I do think a solid background in potions will help us in a career after Hogwarts. We just want to do the best we can.”

“Very admirable, Mr. Weasley,” said Minerva. “I must write your mother and tell her of your newfound enthusiasm for academics.”

A look of panic flashed in Fred’s’ eyes and then a bland smile reappeared on his face. “I don’t think that would be wise, professor. A shock like that might be too much for poor Mum’s heart” he finished with a forced chuckle.

“Well this combined with the rather extensive apothecary and potions library in your dormitory are a credit to your efforts, Mr. Weasley,” Minerva said. Once again a fleeting look of panic showed in his eyes but nothing else in his body language betrayed his unease.

As Albus returned his wand, Minerva told him “You may go, Mr. Weasley, Auror Shacklebolt will arrange for an escort back to your common room.”

“Professor?” the boy asked Albus, “What about Ginny? Why is she in trouble?”

“So far as we know she personally is not in trouble. There is an unusual aura about her, but it may be nothing more than some stray Darkness Powder.” The boy’s eyes widened in shock. “She will rejoin you shortly, I think.”

“Thank you, professor,” he said shakily as he stood and turned to leave.

“Oh, Mr. Weasley?” The Weasley boy turned back to look at the Headmaster. “These are dark time at Hogwarts and people are scared. While cleverness is appreciated, so is circumspection. Good day.”

“Yes sir,” he replied gravely.

Alastor waited until the boy left the hall before he said, “That was interesting. Is it possible someone might be immune to Veritaserum?”

“Wait until you hear his brother. You will be amazed. There is no way he could have heard our questions” Minerva said curtly. She frowned a moment and added uncertainly, “At least I don’t think there is a way. Albus, you don’t think -” The Headmaster pursed his lips in thought for a second then shrugged his shoulders.

Alastor called over to Kingsley, “Send the brother, won’t you?”

George Weasley walked into the Great Hall, his actions an exact copy of his brother’s. Albus worked hard to not smile as he noticed the significant glance Minerva gave him and Alastor.

“Mr. Weasley,” Albus said “Would you please place the vial of potion from your bag onto the table.”

This Weasley boy actually sighed slightly with relief and placed a cruet of a thick purple potion before the Headmaster.

“What is this?” Albus asked.

“It is a mistake sir. George and I -”

“You are George, Mr. Weasley” Albus interrupted.

George Weasley blinked but there was no other outwards sign of surprise on having his ruse uncovered. “Right sir. Well, Fred and I were working on a Befuddlement Draught as extra credit for potions, and we let the base evaporate too much. It’s probably useless now,” he added just a bit too innocently. Alastor snorted softly, whether from disgust or laughter Albus couldn’t quite tell.

“Extra credit research? I am sure Professor Snape was amazed by this request,” Minerva repeated from before with only the surprise in her voice missing.

“Ah. Yes, Ma’am. Well, it isn’t actually for Professor Snape’s class. At least not directly.”

“Indeed, Mr. Weasley?” Albus repeated. “If this isn’t school work then what is it for?”

“Well sir, Mum’s been after Fred and me to get a head start on a job after Hogwarts. What with O.W.L.s next year and all. Potions is a basic requirement for many careers. We just want to do the best we can.”

Minerva shook her head slightly. “I see, Mr. Weasley, very commendable. I should write your mother a note commending your new appreciation of classes here at school.”

George Weasley’s look of alarm then bland smile mirrored his twin’s reactions. “There is no need professor. Mum’s not as young as she used to be. This could be quite a shock for her poor heart.” He finished with the same forced chuckle.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley” Albus said, handing the boy’s wand to him. “There is nothing more we need to ask. I will see to the proper destruction of this ‘accident’ of yours.”

“Oh that’s all right professor. There’s no need to put yourself out, we can do it.”

“It isn’t an inconvenience, Mr. Weasley, but thank you for the offer. Before you return to your common room, let me repeat what I told your brother. Cleverness is always appreciated but when people are frightened, so is circumspection.” Albus fixed the boy with a stare. George Weasley met the older Wizards’ eyes and nodded as he rose from the table to leave. He took about three steps then looked toward the anteroom door. “Your sister is not in trouble, at least not that we know of. There is a possibility she is slightly befuddled.” Albus’ comment caused the boy to suck in a breath and then he continued toward the Hall’s main doors.

“Amazing,” Alastor muttered. “You know, if those two want the job after they finish here, the Auror Academy could use them to train prisoner interrogators. If we could crack them, Voldemort himself wouldn’t stand a change against us.”

“I don’t find that the least bit amusing,” Minerva groused. Looking down at the parchment before her she slowly shook her head. “I wonder about this one,” she sighed. “Albus? Let me take the lead with Miss Granger.” Albus looked at her in surprise but nodded his agreement.

A young girl with a thick head of hair came out, looking like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights, and walked hesitantly toward the professor’s table.

With a tone that brooked no argument, Minerva said, “Miss Granger, sit down and place the potion ingredients from your bag upon the table.” The girl haltingly reached into her bag and placed four containers on the table.

Albus picked up each one, looked at them, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Miss Granger, you are carrying powered bicorn horn, boomslang skin, knot grass, and leeches. Are you aware that these ingredients are used to make polyjuice potion?”

“Yes, Professor,” she replied in a small voice, not meeting any of the adults eyes.

“Miss Granger,” snapped Minerva in outrage, “For what purpose would you require polyjuice potion? A potion that is several years beyond you class’s level of experience I might add!”

“Ah… well…” the girl temporized.

“Miss Granger,” Albus intoned gravely, “We have had a series of Dark Magic incidents. The use of polyjuice can be considered incriminating evidence. I must know why you have these ingredients on your person.”

“We… I mean I was going to make myself look like a Slytherin student and ask about in their common room about who they think the Heir of Slytherin is, and what he is trying to do against Muggle-borns.”

Albus and Minerva looked at each other in stunned silence while Alastor discreetly coughed. Albus nodded slightly to his Deputy who promptly took the girl to task. “What on earth possessed you to think you could solve this problem! And to break into another houses’ common room? Have you taken leave of your senses?” she scolded. The girl blushed furiously and kept her head down.

“How far have you progressed in brewing the potion?” Albus asked, his voice still quite grave. Miss Granger looked up and he peered intently into her eyes.

“We… I haven’t begun brewing it. I still need to get lace wings sir.”

“Who is ‘we’ Miss Granger?” he replied still fixing her with his stare.

The girl paused, and obviously struggled with how to answer the question. After several moments she gave a quiet sigh and said, “Fred and George Weasley, and Neville Longbottom are helping me. But I’m the one who wants to do it though. If this means detention,” she raised her chin defiantly, “I am the one who deserves it, not them.”

“There is most assuredly detention in this, Miss Granger,” Minerva said, angry disappointment in her voice, “and I will confiscate these ingredients.”

“But where…” and the girl’s defiant expression fell, “Where will I get more?”

“You can not get more, and I strongly advise you, and your partners in crime, not to try” Minerva snapped. “You are assigned detention every Saturday evening until the spring break. You will be reporting to Madam Pince in the library staring this Saturday.”

“Yes, professor,” she answered meekly.

Albus placed the girl’s wand on the table before her. “You are dismissed, one of the Aurors by the entrance doors will escort you back to the Gryffindor common room” Minerva told her curtly.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she replied with the same meek voice. She glared for a moment at the potion ingredients on the table, picked up her wand and her bag and made for the hall’s entrance doors. She turned around and hesitantly asked, “Professor Dumbledore, did you arrange for those books and magazines in the waiting room?” Albus nodded. “May I ask about one of them?”

Dumbledore smiled slightly “Of course, Miss Granger. Which one sparked your interest?”

“The ‘Theory of Magic,’ Professor. I have never heard of it, it certainly isn’t in the library’s collection -”

“No, Miss Granger, I dare say it is not” Albus interrupted. “The book is a collection of essays from a theorist that were written in America. It is from my personal library, for the Ministry does not think this approach to magical education is appropriate.”

“Oh. Is it possible I can borrow it to read more?”

“Perhaps someday,” Albus said wistfully, “but not now, Miss Granger.”

The girl nodded but her expression was puzzled. She hesitated again and asked Minerva “What about Ginny? Is she in trouble?”

“Miss Weasley is not your concern, Miss Granger. She will be along shortly. Good evening to you,” Minerva said as curtly as before.

After the girl left Albus felt Alastor nudge him and whisper overly loud “Isn’t she the one the portraits refer to as ‘mini-McGonagall’?”

Minerva huffed and replied stiffly, “There is nothing wrong with one of my prized students applying herself diligently. I think some of the portraits are displaying an alarming amount of cheek!”

Alastor grinned, “My apologies Minerva, I just think she and the Weasley boys make an odd combination.”

“I agree with you Alastor.” Seeing Alastor’s confused glance at Minerva, Albus told him “She was the student who the Troll nearly killed. It was the Longbottom boy and the Weasley twins who found her in the girl’s lavatory Halloween of last year. Poppy told me another few minutes and Miss Granger might well have died from her injuries.”

Minerva nodded slightly, though she had a faint grimace on her face. “Since then, they appear to have become close friends. I do worry about the corrupting influence the twins have on the other two. Breaking into another houses’ common room! What has happened to her? I had planned on appointing her a prefect in a few years!”

Albus smiled broadly for a moment. “Since their friendship, I have noticed an increase in the cleverness and audacity of the twin’s pranks. I am not certain who is corrupting whom, Minerva.”

Alastor sighed sadly, “It’s good to see some of Frank coming out in the boy. I had worried Augusta’s um… dominating influence was not healthy for him.” He stood and stretched. “One left? Lets get this over with; my poor bones tire easily these days.”

Albus nodded. “Kingsley, would you tell the last student to come out.”

An extremely pale and very petite girl appeared in the doorway. She paused and took in the scene before her with wide eyes. As the girl began to walk to the round table Albus noticed movement from the Specialists on the bench. This put him on alert because they had remained still and quiet throughout the previous interrogations. The girl had obviously noticed some motion from the shadows too; she glanced worriedly between the shadowy back wall and the table with him and his colleagues.

“Miss Weasley, please take a seat.” She did as Minerva instructed her.

“Miss Weasley,” said Albus, “If you would empty your robe pockets and place the contents on the table.”

The girl looked at him in panic as she brought out a worn old-looking leather bound book and placed in the middle of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw the Lead Specialist now clearly lean forward on his bench, apparently focused on the red-haired girl. Turning his attention back to the worn book before him Albus gave a puzzled frown as he reached to pick it up.

“NO!” shouted the Leader, startling everyone in the hall. Leaping from the shadowy bench the Leader sprinted over to the interrogation table and ordered “Don’t touch it!” More calmly it added “If I may Headmaster, I would like to examine this. Everyone please stay in your chairs.” The Weasley girl now watched it with a confused frown, Minerva looked livid, and Albus realized his worst case scenario was unfolding before him. It was now apparent to all that the leader of the Specialists sounded very human, and rather young at that.

Albus sighed quietly as the Leader called its companions to join it with the professors. As the other two Specialists approached, the Leader quietly informed all at the table “This is definitely the same signature. But it is stronger than any of the others we have seen so far, except the dormitory room.”

“Will you require a wand for this?” asked The Scribe

The Leader shook its head but softly told The Scribe, “We should make sure to look at this in a pensieve later.” Albus watched as The Leader slowly walked around the table, the cowl of its cloak facing the book in its centre. After several circuits it stopped and spoke to the girl.

“All right uh… Miss uh… Weasley?” She hesitantly nodded her head. “Miss Weasley, place your hands at the edge of the table. Don’t reach for the book, or touch it.” She did so and the Leader circled the table again, only now looking from the book to her hands and her head.

“Okay, Miss Weasley –“

“My name is Ginny” she said nervously.

“Ah. All right… err, Ginny. Reach for the book but don’t pick it up.”

As she moved her hands toward the book The Leader suddenly shouted, “No! Stop!” Miss Weasley flinched and pulled her hands back. A bit more calmly it said “I uh… I mean that’s uh… good where you had your hands. Go ahead and put them back there.” After a long look at the girl, her hands, and the book the Leader asked if she felt anything.

“Besides the table?” she asked worriedly. The Leader nodded. “No. What am I supposed to feel?”

The Leader did not answer her. Instead it told her to pick up the book. It then asked her to slowly bring the book toward her body, and then slowly place it back in the centre of the table. As she held the book to her chest it circled the table again, watching her and the book. It asked her again if she felt anything and, no less worried than before, she replied that she didn’t.

After she moved the book about, the Leader motioned the other two Specialists aside for another quick conversation. They returned to the round table, the Tall One asked Ginny to get up and take a seat on the bench at the end of the Hufflepuff table closest to the staff table. She started to grab the book, but Albus told her, “You must leave it here Miss Weasley. There is something about your book that interests the Specialists. They wish to examine it without you in the immediate vicinity.”

She paused at this, panic written on her face. Looking towards The Tall One she said with a fretful whisper, “This is my diary; it’s… its private! I can’t just leave it lying around!”

The Tall Specialist faced her and replied, “No one will touch or open the book without your permission. Is that all right?” The girl nodded haltingly, obviously not comfortable with leaving her diary beyond her immediate reach.

The Tall One picked up her bag and accompanied her to the Hufflepuff house table. It set her at the end of the table away from the Aurors still eating. In the meantime the Scribe and Leader began talking to Albus, Minerva, and Alastor.

“There is clearly some sort of connection between that book and her,” said the Leader quietly. “When you reached for that thing, its signature expanded and swirled around you like a swarm of angry bees. The signature colours were a combination of Control, Bond, and Destroy magic. And dead flat, not a hint of sheen. I thought the thing was going to attack you.”

“And the girl?” Albus asked, looking toward the Hufflepuff table.

“There was a different hue to the signature; totally Control and Bond, without a hint of the Destroy colour. It is possible the book might have initially attempted to attack her too. But I sensed that it knows her. Almost like there is a sentience about it. There also is a thread of magic that ties them, even when separated. It runs from the book to her head and chest. It ballooned to a bubble surrounding her when she held it. It’s possible it overwhelms her when she opens it. She might not have any memory of that happening.”

The Scribe looked at Minerva, “Has she been ill, are there any physical side effects? I just don’t know what it is doing to her. She seems normal enough, given the circumstances here in this hall. I’d be nervous if our places were reversed.”

Albus listened with concern as Minerva mentioned the Weasley girl had grown lethargic and prone to a chronic cold since October. While as fascinated as any first year with the school and its magic, she had grown pale and withdrawn as the first term progressed. Minerva related that she and the girl’s mother chalked it up to a bad case of homesickness. She also noted Miss Weasley had suffered a severe bout of exhaustion after her return from Christmas holidays. Madam Pomfrey had been quite alarmed and puzzled, as Miss Weasley flinched when touched. “Fortunately,” Minerva concluded, “A weekend’s bed rest and some Restoration Elixir seemed to solve that.”

The Tall One returned to the professor’s table and told them the girl, “Ginny” said The Leader with a weak laugh, called the book her diary.

“Would that make a difference compared to a regular book?” The Leader asked.

“Definitely,” replied The Scribe. “For young girls, they will use a diary as a personal confidante; write anything and everything into it. I can imagine she is very nervous about letting it out of her hand, let alone her sight.”

“Why not just remove it by force, destroy it?” Alastor asked. “If it’s dangerous and Dark, she should not have it.”

The Scribe shrugged slightly. “If it has bonded with her, I doubt that doing such a thing would leave her sane, let alone alive. If we destroy it, surely a magical backlash will occur. Is that what you want to do?”

Minerva went white, and shook her head slowly. Albus sighed, knowing this was not going to get easier. “No” he told the group, “if there is some way we can remove it from her without causing damage, we must look at how to do so.”

The Scribe shifted its feet for a moment. “We will need to convince her that her privacy will be respected if we are to even attempt to remove it from her.”

The Leader looked in the girl’s direction and then back to Albus. “Are there diaries that possess people?”

“Yes,” said Albus slowly, “although they are rare. They involve very complex magic and something like that would definitely be a Dark Object. What does the signature’s… thread did you call it?” The Leader nodded. “What does the thread look now that there is a bit of separation between her and this diary.”

The Leader seemed to peer at the diary and then slowly move its gaze toward the girl. “There is a really narrow thread still there. I don’t think she is aware of it. It has a very strong Bond hue, and it too is dead flat. Another thing about this signature tying her to the diary – it is similar to those we found on your Potion Master’s arm, the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and professors quarters, the second floor bathroom and the third floor corridor. There was also a faint bit of it near the Forbidden Forest.”

“Are you sure, are you certain, this book radiates Voldemort’s signature?” said Albus, clearly troubled. The Leader once again shrugged its shoulders.

“I think he should talk to her,” the Tall One volunteered. As Albus looked at him quizzically, The Tall One told The Leader “Win her confidence. Try to get her to tell you more about this diary.”

The Leader looked toward the girl, who was nervously watching the six of them, and then back to The Tall One. “You want me to talk to a girl? I’ve never talked to one before.”

The Scribe looked over at Minerva. With a humorous tone it said, “I can assure you the good professor would disagree with you.” She glared at them both.

Shaking its head The Leader replied, “Professor McGonagall is… is a professor, a kind woman.” Pointing toward Ginny Weasley it said “She’s a girl.”

The other two Specialists looked to each other and chuckled. The Tall One patted The Leader on the shoulder then shoved it toward the Hufflepuff table. “Your elders need to talk for a while. Just use your incredible charm. And if all else fails… well, fake it.”

*******

The Leader reluctantly made its way over to the red haired girl and awkwardly sat down across the table from her. She warily watched the Leader as it approached the table and scooted away from it slightly as it sat down.

“Your name is Ginny, right?” She nodded hesitantly. It sat looking at her trying to figure out what to say. “So,” the Leader finally said abruptly, “You look quite young, do you go to school here?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ginny replied slowly, though her apparent anxiety was still present. “Y… you sound young too.” The Leader said nothing in response, but shifted slightly in the seat. “A… are you a boy?”

Ignoring her question, the Leader tried again, “Err, how do you like it here? I mean, I guess this is a good school, yeah?”

Ginny sat a bit straighter and answered indignantly, “Of course it is a good school! This is the finest school of magic in England!” It appeared her anxiety was momentarily set aside as she flushed brightly at having been so vocal.

“That’s not such a big deal, is it? It’s basically the only major school of magic in England.”

“Fine, then,” she shot back, her flush still in full force. “It’s the best major school of magic in Europe. And the oldest.” As though realizing she was making a scene, she seemed to visibly deflate in front of the Leader. “I-I’ve been dreaming of coming here since my oldest brother started,” she finished with an emotional whisper.

“Was he the tall red-headed bloke with the badge on his chest?”

“N-no, that’s Percy,” she replied with a hint of indifference that, combined with her awkwardness, the Leader thought odd. “Bill is my oldest brother. He finished here years ago.”

“Really? How many brothers do you have?”

“Six. Bill and Charlie finished and the others are -”

“Do you like your classes?”

The Ginny girl shot The Leader a look of annoyance, her awkwardness again lost in apparent irritation. “It is not polite to interrupt!” She paused a second and then nervously began talking. “Yes, I love my classes, actually. You’ve obviously met Professor McGonagall, and she is brilliant with Transfiguration. Charms and Herbology are also great. Did you know the History of Magic professor is a ghost?” The Leader shook its head. “Everyone except my friend Hermione, well actually Hermione is more Fred and George’s friend, but I like her too, everyone thinks History of Magic is boring but-”

“Why? How could a history of your own kind be boring?”

“You’re interrupting me again” Ginny snapped, but she didn’t answer its question. Instead she continued on as if it had never spoken. “The Defence Against the Dark Arts class isn’t that good though -”

“I should guess not! What with that blonde ponce teaching it.”

“You are very rude, do you know that?”

“Sorry…” replied the Leader. “Err; I’m not really used to this.”

“Used to what?” she asked, confused.

“Well, you know… talking to… people… and, ah… to, err, girls,” he finished in a whisper.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “What?” she drawled sarcastically. “Is talking to girls against your religion or something?”

The Leader looked over at the table where the other Specialists were talking and sighed. With a pleading tone it said “No. I am sorry, it’s just… this isn’t something I’ve done before.” The Leader looked down at the table top and drew in a deep breath. “I am trying to make you comfortable.” Ginny huffed, but said nothing. “I… we want you to know you are not in trouble or anything. You were given a card because I saw a Dark Magic signature about you.”

Ginny’s defiant attitude disappeared instantly. “I’m Dark?” she asked tremulously.

“Not you!” the Leader replied instantly. “It’s that book of your’s that’s Dark, and it has a signature similar to several other places about this school. It’s kind of unusual and I want to study it more before I can begin to guess why.”

“That is my diary! You can’t just go looking about in it,” she answered, her worry evident.

“I know about diaries” the Leader replied with an upbeat tone, pleased to add this reassuring bit to the discussion. “We… I won’t. Go looking in it that is. I give you my word. I just want to make sure it hasn’t harmed you, and so I am sort of keeping people from touching it right now. You can, touch it that is, because there is a reaction of sorts to you.”

“Because I’m Dark?” She sounded close to tears, which was not helping.

“No,” the Leader sighed in exasperation. “I am certain you are not Dark. You have your own signature you know, everyone does. Yours is definitely not Dark.” Ginny looked at the Leader, still not convinced she was not in trouble. “Make her comfortable,” the Leader muttered to himself.

“Why are you certain about me? How do you know these things?” Ginny asked peering into the shadowed hood intensely.

“Ah… er… um…” The Leader temporized. “It’s a… it’s sort of a gift I suppose. It’s not important for you to know.” With over-exaggerated enthusiasm it said, “So! The classes here are brill and all. You seem smart so I’ll bet you must be doing well!”

Ginny just stared at the Leader for a few moments. “Well,” she said, apparently deciding to follow its lead, “I did really well when I first go here. I mean magic is really interesting, what you can do with it and everything.”

“But do they teach you the how and why…Oh, I’m sorry, I was being rude again.”

Ginny sniffed and nodded a bit, accepting the apology. Once again she began to talk, starting slow and building to a rapid pace. “The portraits here all talk you know. And they talk to each other a lot. The Gryffindor common room is guarded by a portrait! She is called ‘The Fat Lady,’ which I don’t think is very nice, although she is sort of, well, fat. I asked her about that shortly after I got here, but she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. She told me others are merely jealous of her ‘zaftig figure.’ Whatever that means. She not even English! She told me a family brought her over with them about 200 years ago. They were running from the Jacobins, whatever they are. She was placed here because one of the daughters was sorted into Gryffindor, but was very homesick, so her family sent the Fat Lady here to keep her company. The Fat Lady liked it here so much; she asked to stay after the girl left school. The stairs move about too, seemingly at random, but my brother Bill said they are tied to the movements of the planet Mercury. I thought he was joking but I read ahead in my Astronomy text and found a reference to a book that I went and found in the library, and sure enough, I can tell you when they are going to move and where to. I wrote Bill about that, to thank him for his help, and he was really pleased with me for looking that up. The ghosts here are really interesting. Sir Nichols, he’s our house ghost, was in Gryffindor himself about five hundred years ago. He has a really horrid story about how he got his nickname, Nearly-Headless Nick…”

While the girl’s monologue rolled on The Leader noticed both its colleagues glancing its way from time to time. It was beginning to feel annoyed that the other two Specialists had managed to avoid being run over by this verbal freight train. It really wished she would just shut it, but didn’t want to risk offending her again. So, The Leader didn’t attempt to interrupt her, only making a ‘Hmm’ or ‘Oh’ sound whenever Ginny emphasised a point in her narrative. Just as it was wondering if she needed to breathe, she paused.

“What is it like taking classes with people around you, don’t you find that distracting?” the Leader quickly asked.

The question apparently took Ginny by surprise. She looked away, drummed her fingers on the table, then cocked her head and again stared into the deeply shadowed cowl.

“No. Well, sometimes it can be. I mean, it can be if you are not careful, and the professors will give you detention for not paying attention in class. But with your friends you can study as a group. It makes classes so much easier because one of us will usually notice something the rest of us miss.”

“Do you have many friends?” the Leader asked curiously. “How do you get friends? Did you meet yours here or did you know them before you came here?”

Ginny looked like she had been slapped, but didn’t respond angrily. If anything, she seemed embarrassed to answer the question. “Oh, ah… I know another first year girl, Luna Lovegood. She lives near my village, and we played together sometimes before we came here. She’s in Ravenclaw, and they are all really smart. So is she, just she is sort of odd at times. Nice odd. She isn’t odd odd, or anything.” Ginny seemed to suddenly be very unsure of herself. “Err… There’s a girl in my house, Hermione. She is smart too, and nice. But she is really a friend of my brothers, Fred and George. They’re twins, you know…”

After a long awkward silence the Leader asked “That’s all?” Puzzled, it continued, “You sound very um… outgoing. What about the other people in your classes?”

“Well, my roommates and I don’t get along too well. And I am um… sort of busy. Tom takes a lot of my time. He is very nice and understanding, and very lonely. I spend a lot of time talking with him.”

“This Tom is friend then?”

“Sort of. I mean, yes, but more like a confidante, kind of.”

“Here at the school?

“Well… sort of. He told me he went to school here a long time ago.”

“He is an old man then? A relative or something? I didn’t know you could have visitors here, but I guess Professor Dumbledore makes an exception for family, yeah?”

Ginny gave a weak laugh. “Oh no, Tom isn’t related to me, at least not that I know of. Tom writes to me through my diary. I can tell him anything and he isn’t critical about not having money, or wearing old robes, or using second-hand books, or things like that. He is very kind, or at least he can be as long as I am good…”

The Leader peered at Ginny for a long moment, long enough to make her begin to fidget.

“Look,” she said nervously, “I have told you lots about me, but I know nothing about you. How am I supposed to become comfortable with someone who won’t let me see their face? I mean, if you’re not human or something that’s okay. I just don’t really like talking to a shadow in a cloak. How would you like it?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to reveal myself,” the Leader told her cautiously. “It isn’t necessary to know me just so I can study your diary -”

“Tom. My diary asked to be called Tom” Ginny answered petulantly. “You are going to need my permission if you want to look in there. That is what you said. You promised! Since those are my private thoughts, you are going to need my help!” she asserted dramatically.

“You are willing to help me… us… to learn what this diary, this Tom is?”

Ginny looked into the shadowed cowl and tutted. “If there is something in my diary that can stop these attacks, of course I want to help.” She grew pensive and said “I don’t know what might be in there to interest you. It’s probably nothing. Just a waste of your time.” She wrung her hands and added fretfully “but I would be crazy not to want to help, if I could help at all.”

“Ah… actually we hadn’t planned on anyone studying this outside of ourselves. But this dia… Tom… is yours, you know it best and –“

The Leader paused in mid-sentence. It looked back at the two other Specialists and then at Ginny. Almost apologetically it said “Would you excuse me for a moment?” and went to Professor Dumbledore, motioning the other Specialists to them.

*******

Ginny watched as Professor Dumbledore waved his wand in a circle about him stopping all noise from his group. Although she couldn’t hear a thing they were saying, it seemed the three Specialists, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, and Auror Moody were in a furious discussion. She felt the blood drain from her face as the shouting and hand waving ceased for a moment and they all looked directly at her. They turned away and immediately began to gesture and argue again. Dumbledore and the two taller Specialists nodded their heads in some sort of agreement while Moody looked thoughtful. Ginny hoped she was not the cause for the look of fury on Professor McGonagall’s face. With another wave of the Headmaster’s wand the privacy spell about the group was removed. Professor McGonagall, who was still fuming, Moody and the two tall specialists walked briskly into anteroom. The lead Specialist returned to Ginny bringing Professor Dumbledore with him.

The Headmaster looked at her with an expression that was hard to decipher. It occurred to Ginny that if that expression were on the Twins she would be running the other way as fast as she could. “Miss Weasley,” he said, “I understand you wish to help with learning about what this diary of yours is.”

Ginny nodded jerkily, not willing to trust her voice at this moment. She was excited but also frightened. Thinking of the Twins reminded her of their bit of advice for her before she came to Hogwarts. Never volunteer for anything. Despite their irreverent manner Ginny again wondered how smart they really were.

“I would like you to join us in the anteroom for a few minutes” Dumbledore continued. She started to object about leaving Tom behind when the professor added “Please retrieve the diary off the round table and bring it with you. I know you will be more comfortable with it close by.”

Ginny nodded and went to the round table to get the diary. She picked it up and holding it possessively to her breast turned back to Professor Dumbledore.

“Excellent!” he told her. Ginny’s worry increased because Dumbledore’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Something was very wrong here, but she could not figure out what. “Let’s go meet the others inside, then, shall we” he added and walked toward the small room.

“After you,” the lead Specialist told Ginny and they followed the Headmaster into the anteroom. Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway and told a tall dark-skinned Auror to guard the outside, letting no one near the door. He then shut the door and began casting privacy spells on the walls, ceiling, floor, windows and the inside of the door.

Watching this, and seeing the irate look on McGonagall’s face, Ginny grew extremely frightened. “Am I in more trouble?” whispered Ginny fretfully.

“Quite the contrary, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore answered in a tone she thought was strangely calm. “My Specialists have convinced me we need your help in learning more about this diary of yours. It would not do to keep unnecessary secrets among fellow investigators.” She also thought it strange that McGonagall glared at Dumbledore intensely as he said this. Could it be her Head of House was angry with the Headmaster and not her?

“Therefore,” Dumbledore continued, “it is our opinion that you be properly introduced to these Specialists.” Solicitously he added “Perhaps you should sit down, Miss Weasley.”

“You’re not human are you!” Ginny said fearfully, a large knot growing in her stomach. She placed the diary on a desk top and sat in the seat.

The tallest Specialist turned toward his slightly shorter companion and let out a frustrated sigh. The two taller creatures shrugged to each other and the short one gave them a nod. As the Specialist, who was the secretary, pulled a wand from somewhere the tallest moved to stand protectively before the short one. Passing the wand before the three hoods the secretary Specialist said "Finite,” and dropped its cloak cowl. It, or rather he, was a man of indeterminate age. Ginny thought he was fairly young but the amount of gray in his hair and the general air of fatigue he radiated made her uncertain. She frowned trying to place where she might have seen him before but drew a blank.

The tallest Specialist lowered his hood next. This man Ginny recognized immediately, after all Sirius Black seemed to be on the cover of every other issue of Witch Weekly. Being this close to him Ginny realized how brutally handsome he was and how piercing those photogenic but cold grey eyes truly were. She nervously expelled a breath under his remorseless stare. And then, as if a switch had been thrown, the edges of his mouth tipped upward and he winked at her. She felt as if she had passed a test of some sort and could not help but blush.

Sirius Black looked away from her and stepped back from the lead Specialist. He gave the short creature, person! Ginny thought, a nudge with his elbow and he too lowered his cloak hood.

Ginny drew a sharp breath. The short Specialist was a boy. In fact he was a boy about her age. Looking at him the first thing she noticed was his brilliant green eyes behind a pair of glasses. She knew him, and she knew she knew him too. There was something so very familiar about him as he quietly gazed back at her. But who is he? She studied his eyes for a few moments longer and he gave her a wry smile. An old memory came, unbidden, to her consciousness; the photograph of a young socialite with the same wry smile, glasses, and untidy black hair; his auburn haired wife with those same captivating green eyes, and their baby boy. She remembered their story from her childhood; the story she asked her parents to read over and over. She remembered other pictures in books and old paper clippings about the lost Potter family, parents murdered and their brave little boy so grievously hurt while stopping You-Know-Who. He had been the only person known to survive the Killing Curse, he had been The Boy Who Lived. A jumble of emotions warred within her; confusion and wonder, sorrow and joy, fear and hope. She began to tremble and her eyes tear up; this had to be some cruel joke, a hallucination of some sort! But Sirius Black was right there, and Sirius Black was said never to be far from his godson. Ginny's eyes shot wide as her mind finally accepted who stood before her.

With a startled gasp she cried, "You! But… but… you're supposed to be... dead!"