A/N: So…here we are at the next stage of the story…all I can say is, enjoy.
Chapter XII: Grave Assumptions
After dinner the previous evening, Harry had hastily returned to the Black ancestral home to take Hermione with him, and they spent the night at the Burrow. More protective wards had been put up before everyone retired to bed, as the proximity of the murder that had happened on the wedding night, still carried an undercurrent of worry in the otherwise amicable evening.
It was the following morning, perhaps around eight o'clock, when Harry was just about to leave with Ron and Draco for the Ministry, that something caught his eye at the kitchen window.
"Hang on," he said, releasing the doorknob, and stepping towards the glass pane.
What he saw almost made him swallow his tongue in surprise. "H-Hedwig?" he whispered, in a detached, wondrous tone.
Ron, his curiosity excited, joined Harry by the window. "I'll be damned," he uttered quietly, observing the owl, which was by now beginning to show signs of irritation.
At that precise moment, Hermione came down the stairs, and because they faced the window, she gave a sudden shriek of surprise.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "What are you standing around for? Open the window!"
The green-eyed man in question regained his senses, and stepped forward to open the latch. Hermione, however, had been quicker, and sparing him a glance of disdain, she let the own in.
"There's a letter," she observed. "See what it says, Harry."
But he was too preoccupied with paying attention to Hedwig. She nibbled his ear affectionately after settling on his shoulder, just as she had done back in their school days…
"Where have you been, Hedwig," Harry spoke to her, seemingly expecting an answer in return; instead, Hedwig watched him imploringly with intelligent eyes, and held up one leg; it was then that Harry became aware of the letter.
Setting the owl on one of the chairs, he unfastened the letter from the leg, and proceeded to open it. The parchment immediately straightened out when he broke the seal with his wand.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Everything depends on you now. Please, do not permit them to take hold of it.
Your devoted servant,
M.E.
"M.E." repeated Ron, after Harry had finished reading the letter aloud. "Who is this M.E.?"
"No idea," said Harry thoughtfully, evidently recounting people he knew in his head, looking for those initials. "Hermione?" he asked, after his unsuccessful attempt.
To his surprise, she looked equally confused. "I don't think I know anyone by that name either," she replied slowly.
"Mate, we don't have time to ponder that now. Come on, or we'll be late," Ron animated the lull in the conversation. "Malfoy's already outside."
"Right," Harry answered. "Goodbye, love," he kissed Hermione quickly on the cheek, and ran after Ron. The door slammed behind him rather hard.
Luna had come down by now, and from somewhere, had produced owl treats that Hedwig was busy breaking apart with her beak. She looked inquiringly at Hermione and greeted her for good morning.
"What are you up to, Hermione?" she asked absently, stroking the snowy owl's feathers with one hand.
"Reading this letter," Hermione replied, before handing Harry's recent mysterious message to the blonde. She, in her turn, scanned it carefully.
"It is strange," Luna observed, "that there is no indication of what it is about. What is it supposed to be?"
"Search me," Hermione said dismissively. "Could be anything."
Upstairs, the sound of walking feet became ever more prominent, as Ginny and the Weasley parents stirred awake. The sound of small, running feet also sounded, as James and Madelyn ran around Fred and George's room.
"It might be a secret," Luna ventured s guess. "It could be a secret."
"Well, yes, but that doesn't help us one bit," Hermione countered matter-of-factly. "Let's drop the subject for now…I think we can return to it later on…"
"Alright," Luna agreed, at a loss for explaining Hermione's sudden withdrawal from the topic.
The respectable form of Mrs. Weasley appeared in the kitchen a minute later, and she directed herself straight to the stove.
"Good morning, my dears," she said with a smile, already breaking eggs in a simmering pan over the stovetop.
"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione and Luna said in near unison. That was before Mr. Weasley appeared, carrying James in one arm, and holding Madelyn's hand in the other. Behind him, Ginny was trying to smother her laughter, mouthing "Grandpa!" at Hermione and Luna.
"Ganpa!" James said shrilly, issuing another involuntary laugh from Ginny. Mr. Weasley only smiled.
"Morning, dear," he greeted, pecking Mrs. Weasley on the cheek. "What's for breakfast?"
"Fried eggs with bacon," she replied, turning to him. "Be careful the children don't burn themselves."
Swiftly, Mr. Weasley backed away from the stove, and gave the children to Luna. Then he sat down on a chair, and muttered to himself, "I'm too old for this."
Breakfast passed over with Hermione telling the rest about Harry's letter, but the mysterious initials M.E. did not eject recognition from anyone's memory; though imaginative and wild ideas about what the it mentioned by the letter, were not lacking.
**
In the meanwhile, Harry, Ron and Draco were anxiously debating among themselves the possibility of uncovering all the wand makers in England. Ron's idea had been enthusiastically accepted, but carrying it out in the flesh was an entirely different affair.
"What do the registers say, Ron?" Harry asked him in frustration. "There have to be registers somewhere."
"Oh yeah," Ron answered with an equally frustrated manner. "Just a small glitch - they're a hundred years out of date!"
"What do you mean? They're supposed to be revised annually," Draco observed with annoyance.
"See for yourself," Ron snapped, and threw forward a rather ancient folder, yellowed by age and quite crumpled up around the corners.
"Who is supposed to be doing the revisions?" Harry demanded.
"The bloody idiots from the Magical Law Enforcement Deaprtment, not the Aurors!" Ron explained haughtily. "And I already spoke twice to them about it."
"And?" Draco prompted him.
"And what? Nothing!" Ron snapped again, throwing furious glances at the other two. "Which leaves us right back where we started."
Harry sighed, and put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes with frustration.
"Alright," he eventually said. "That means we can't rely on the Ministry records, and it's also the most crucial part of the whole plan…d'you two know any wand makers, besides Olliviander?"
"Nope," Ron said, and Draco nodded his agreement.
"Fine," Harry responded forcefully. "Then we do more research. There must be an article or a book somewhere with more recent information…"
Muttering under his breath, Harry ran his hand through his hair and sat back down on one of the chairs, deep in thought. Draco turned towards the roaring fireplace, and also seemed to become absorbed in his mind. Ron continued sitting behind the desk, staring with hard irresolution at the opposite wall.
"You know," Draco ventured eventually, "maybe we can ask around…look for witnesses."
"That would be tough to do," Harry observed, "considering that each murder was done quietly and in remote circumstances."
"That Muggle attack early on, however," said Ron suddenly. "It was public, and many people saw it, including wizards, I'm sure...I'll ask those daft idiots from the Enforcement if they left anyone with their memory intact from the event…"
"Let's hope so," Draco muttered quietly. "Though the odds are against us."
That issued a slight chuckle from Harry and Ron. "Definitely, first task of tomorrow's day…we have to make haste, if we are to find answers," Ron added.
With that concluded their second consecutive meeting about the proper coarse of action to take. Each of them thought grimly about the multitude of questions piling up, and without one clue for an answer.
Why had Olliviander and Gregorovitch been killed? And the Muggle attack? Why were they targeted too, first Harry, and then Hermione? And even, the murder of that innocent man, not even three houses from the Weasleys; finally, the cryptic message, with no obvious sender, saying literally nothing about something...
Was it a warning? Who were the culprits after, or perhaps, after what? They were obviously determined, but that by it was very inconclusive.
Sometime in the early afternoon, the three of them returned to the Burrow, glummer than before. The house itself was rather quiet, with the only sound being the sporadic laughter of James and Madelyn, as Luna entertained them in the living room. Mrs. Weasley informed them that Mr. Weasley was taking a much-needed nap upstairs, and she and Hermione were discussing something over a cup of coffee.
"Love," Ginny, who had joined them shortly after their return, turned to Draco. "There's been another death."
"Another one!" Harry exclaimed before Draco could reply. "When?"
"This morning," Ginny replied in hushed tones. "Very sinister though."
"How did you find out?" Ron put in uneasily.
"The Prophet," Hermione supplemented, "but it's not front page news."
"What happened to the victim?" Draco asked apprehensively.
"Died on the train," Hermione answered, perplexed. "They found him spread out onto the seat. No signs of a struggle, so he possibly died a natural death; apparently, he was quite old too."
"What train was it?" Harry inquired a minute after Hermione had finished speaking.
"From Bolton to Michigan," she returned, after perusing quickly through the article once again.
"Probably an odd case," Draco replied dismissively. "I doubt he was killed."
A murmur of general consensus spread among the rest at his words. Still, there was something curious about it all…people did not just die in trains. Or perhaps, they did…that man seemed to be very old after all.
"Have they any knowledge about the victim's identity?" Harry asked Hermione rather directly.
"Actually, none," she replied. "He seemed to fall back on his wand, and it snapped in half, according to the article; and we very well know that completely severed wands are impossible to repaired."
"Could they trace the origin of the wand?" Luna put in hopefully.
"Impossible, when it's broken," Hermione stated matter-of-fact.
"Accidental death, I'm sure," Ron affirmed Draco's earlier sentiment. "Man was probably standing up, and suffered a heart attack, perhaps"
"Probably," Harry agreed.
At that, the subject was dropped.
**
The very next day, Harry and Ron departed early again for the Ministry, in order to place their request on the Magical Law Enforcement Department. They arrived relatively quickly, and headed straight for the headquarters of the aforementioned department.
Ron knocked insistently on the door. Quite evidently, he was anxious. The door opened after several minutes, and a rather attractive woman stood in front of them, looking somewhat annoyed.
"Can I help you?" she asked haughtily.
"Yeah, I'm the head of the Auror department," Ron said authoritatively, and the transformation was instantaneous; the woman completely changed her demeanor and smiled brightly.
"Mr. Weasley," she said sweetly, "excuse me. Can I help you?"
"Yes, you can," said Ron hurriedly, and the secretary smiled even wider. "Find Twist for me, will you?"
"Certainly," she said, and literally ran back into the depths of the department, leaving Harry and Ron to come in after her.
"Vivacious girl," Harry observed teasingly. "She has it in for you, mate."
"Believe me, she isn't the only one," Ron answered with annoyance. "Doesn't the ring on my hand send a clear message?"
"Guess not," Harry told him pointedly.
They couldn't argue about it further, because a short, plump man appeared in the foyer, carrying a stack of folders under his hand. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and the thick spectacles magnified his eyes to an unusually large size.
"Weasley," he greeted gruffly, "what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
The tone, with which he said it, clearly indicated that he didn't want to spend much time discussing with Harry and Ron.
"Muggle attack that happened a while ago," Ron replied curtly. "Do you have any witnesses on it?"
"Why?" Twist narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Olliviander and Gregorovitch murders," Ron told him. "My department has the case."
"Them two?" the other was incredulous. "The minister assigned it to me, personally."
"As head of the Auror Department, I have the authority to launch an independent investigation," Ron observed rather coolly. "I'll ask you one more time, Twist; do you have any witnesses from the attack?"
Knowing he was not in a position to argue with someone, who headed a department, superior to his, Twist clenched his jaw, and fixed a furious look at Ron.
"Yes," he confirmed quietly. "Two of them. The others, I had their memories wiped. And you're damn lucky, 'cause I was 'bout to do the same to the last two."
"Where are they?" Harry interjected. "It's important."
"Now, that - " the plump man answered, trying to reach a bargaining position, but Ron cut across him.
"Twist, if you don't want to find yourself on the street in the next five minutes, you will cooperate with us," he threatened icily.
The man's jaw worked furiously, but he contained his anger. "In custody," he answered quietly. "Downstairs, cell five."
"Have a nice day, Twist," Ron voiced his curt parting greeting, and he and Ron swept from the office.
"Why were you so angry with him?" Harry inquired, as they made their way towards the elevators.
"Why?" Ron echoed. "Because he is a scumbag, that's what he is…"
"Can you elaborate?" Harry's interest was peaked.
"Sure," Ron said offhand. "He had the Minister in a compromising situation. Back in the days of the Second War, the minister was dealing with You-Know-Who, trying to negotiate some kind of settlement with him. In those times, he was a senior member in the Auror department, and tasked with a secret mission to rescue some rookies You-Know-Who had captured some months before."
"How do you know this?" Harry asked in amazement.
"Being head Auror has its perks," Ron answered smugly. "Anyways, what happened was that he eventually succeeded; a trade was made for several captured Death Eaters back then. Of course, everything was done in secret, because you can imagine how it would look, if wind of this happened to circulate among the public."
"Did Twist find out by accident?"
"Yes," Ron went on with his story. "By a moment of inattention, he was chosen to be the one to escort the captured Death Eaters to the site of the trade, along with the Minister himself. Later on he threatened to disclose the details and discredit the current government severely, if he was not chosen to head the department of Magical Law Enforcement."
By now, the elevator had arrived, and the doors creaked open.
"Dirty bastard…why don't they sack him on the pretense of not doing his job appropriately? You do have the wand maker records to prove it," Harry offered, as the stepped in the cabin of the elevator.
"Simply because he has the proof to do much greater damage," Ron said grimly. "But that doesn't concern us for now, as long as he keeps quiet. Now we have witnesses to question."
Ron pressed the button for the dungeons, and with a screeching noise, the elevator began to move slowly downward.
A/N: What will the witnesses reveal? Stay tuned to find out…in the meanwhile, reviews are more than welcome. :D Next chapter going up within the week, hopefully…