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Hunters and Prey | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 295 Summary: February 2000 Newly Qualified (in record time) Auror Harry Potter remains obsessed with “The List.” The ten people still wanted for their part in the Battle of Hogwarts. Their capture is essential. It will bring closure to the events of the past few years. Harry has set himself a target. He wants to see “The Last Death Eater” and the other nine captured before the second Anniversary of the battle. His attempts to meet his target will bring heartbreak, danger, and pain. Hitcount: Story Total: 112104; Chapter Total: 6400 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Thanks to Amelíe for her comments, corrections and input. Please review. Constructive criticism is always gratefully received. |
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12. The Snare: Legal Lizard ‘Are you sure he said “Bletchley?”’ Harry asked anxiously. Neville nodded glumly. ‘I’m positive, Harry. I used the Pensieve to double check my memories. The way the tall guy was grunting and mumbling, I think he was probably Goyle. When Bletchley fired a blasting curse at the ceiling, they both made a run for it,’ explained Neville sorrowfully. ‘I cast a shield spell over Hannah, because there was a huge ceiling beam falling on her. By the time I’d made sure she was safe, they’d both scarpered. They ran out into Muggle London and Disapparated,’ said Neville apologetically. ‘Sorry, Harry, I thought I was going to be questioning a couple of delivery men, not confronting two Death Eaters from our wanted list.’ ‘I don’t think I’d have done anything differently, Neville, especially if Ginny was underneath a collapsing ceiling. Is Hannah okay?’ asked Harry. ‘She’s fine, thanks, Harry.’ Neville stared at his feet for a few moments before returning his gaze to Harry and smiling sheepishly. ‘She’s a former DA and Resistance member. She got her Order of Merlin Third Class for a reason! Her shield spell was up almost as quickly as mine. She, er–got a bit cross with me–reminded me that she can look after herself and told me that I should have been doing my job, trying to catch Bletchley. She was right.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Well, at least we know how they are surviving, and we know that Bletchley is with someone else. We’ll need to track them down. They must be making their stuff somewhere.’ Harry began to make plans. Neville cut him short with a shake of his head. ‘It’s too late for that, Harry. We know a lot more. They’ve closed up shop, and it’s all my fault. Owls are being returned saying that they’ve gone out of business. They aren’t sending anyone their money back, of course. There is no more alcoholic pumpkin juice. Mark D’Arque Unlimited apparently closed up their business within the hour. ‘When I knew that I’d lost them, I went back into the pub and spoke to Hannah. She told me that they had walked into the Cauldron from the Diagon Alley entrance. But every other pub Ron and I had visited told us that the delivery men had Apparated there.’ Harry’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes,’ Neville confirmed, ‘Ron and I managed to find their factory very quickly. It was a little place on Awls End.’ ‘Awls End?’ asked Harry, the name was vaguely familiar to him. ‘You know it,’ Neville assured him. ‘It’s that little lane right at the bottom end of Knockturn Alley. They must have been using Polyjuice potion whenever they went out. They’d left in a hurry, left loads of stuff behind; we picked up a few Galleons, some Polyjuice potion, loads of hairs, and over a hundred bottles of the pumpkin juice. Byers is analysing the potions and the pumpkin juice for me.’ ‘Well done, Neville,’ said Harry. ‘Well done!’ Neville pulled a face and snorted dismissively. ‘They got away, Harry.’ ‘But you found their hideout,’ Harry reminded him. ‘I assume that it’s being watched, so they are homeless, and they’ve lost what was probably their only way of earning money. They know we’ll investigate any new pumpkin juice suppliers.’ ‘Yeah, but I could have caught them, Harry. I should have caught them.’ Neville shook his head in regret. ‘It sounds like they were settled, and now they’re on the run again,’ said Harry. ‘I think you’re right. It looked like they’d been hiding out there for ages. They were leasing the place, and guess who from?’ asked Neville. ‘Awls End cuts through to Knowe Place, doesn’t it?’ said Harry. ‘The Parkinsons?’ ‘Yes,’ Neville confirmed. ‘The building they were using was owned by J. X. Parkinson and Sons. Susan and Terry went to visit Pansy, but they didn’t get anywhere with her. Pansy claims that the place was leased by MDU (Holdings). We’ve checked, MDU (Holdings) doesn’t exist. She also said that they paid their rent on time, so she didn’t pay any attention to them. Susan is still trying to get some additional information through Theodore Nott. Did you know that they were engaged?’ ‘Nott and Susan?’ Harry spluttered in disbelief. Neville burst out laughing. ‘Blimey, Harry, you’re worse than me at gossip. No, Nott and Pansy! Their engagement was announced in the Daily Prophet a couple of weeks ago. Susan is the only Auror Nott will speak to, you know that. She thinks that she can persuade Nott to persuade Pansy to tell us everything she knows.’ ‘It might work, I suppose,’ said Harry uncertainly. ‘What else did you find at the warehouse?’ ‘There were three bedrooms in their hideout, two singles and a double. I found hairs in all three and we did a Polyjuice test on them. All four Slytherins had been there. Bulstrode and Flint were sharing a bed.’ Neville shuddered at the thought. ‘You were right; all four of them were together.’ ‘Bletchley’s the only one with any real brains,’ Harry said. ‘Flint has more brains than Goyle. But, like Ron says, all that means is that Flint is capable of using words with more than one syllable. Bletchley’s a half-blood, his dad was a Muggle. I wonder if they’ve disappeared into the Muggle world.’ He began to ponder the possibilities. ‘I’ve rechecked with the goblins,’ continued Neville dejectedly. ‘None of the four Slytherins have bank accounts in their own names and there is no business account in the name Mark D’Arque. I wondered whether they had been using false names but, when I asked, the goblins got really shirty with me. Apparently “Gringotts magic cannot be fooled by wizard lies.” The Gringotts goblins are absolutely certain that they can’t have opened an account in a false name. The magic of the bank requires the real name of the person, or the business, before it will work.’ Neville shrugged disconsolately. ‘I had them, and I lost them, sorry.’ ‘Don’t blame yourself, Neville,’ Harry told him. ‘We’ll catch them soon.’ ‘I hope so,’ Neville said. ‘Sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t have gone to The Cauldron alone. If I had been more careful, if I’d had someone else with me, we could have caught them before you got back.’ ‘It’s not your fault,’ Harry assured his friend. ‘We’ve been taught to investigate alone, “your investigation, your case, your job, you do it!” that’s what Auror Williamson says, but it’s stupid, isn’t it?’ Neville nodded glumly and Harry smiled. ‘Going to the pub alone to meet a couple of delivery men is only marginally stupid, mate. Try infiltrating a werewolf village. We should be working in bigger teams,’ said Harry. Neville nodded in agreement. ‘At least now we know where Bletchley and company have been, we can check the place for clues,’ Harry added. ‘We are. Susan, Terry and Dominic are working on it with me, too. But, I’ve got more bad news, Harry. Romilda was skulking in a corner of the office yesterday. She told Williamson that she was looking for Terry. She was there when Parvati delivered her mirror and we think that she overheard Parvati telling us that Lavender was with you.’ ‘Well, that explains the elopement story.’ Harry said grimly. ‘I hope that Terry…’ ‘Terry’s just contacted me, too,’ Neville interrupted. ‘He wanted to tell me that he and Susan are on their way to see Nott, and to tell me that Fenella is on her way here. She has your photographs from last night. He also said that he went to see Romilda the second he saw this morning’s papers. He chucked her, told her that she was untrustworthy. She wasn’t upset, she was angry. Apparently she doesn’t get finished by a boy, she does the finishing! She told him that he was big, ugly and stupid.’ Neville grinned at Harry. It was the first time Harry had ever seen his friend smile while talking about Romilda. Even when they had been going out together, he remembered, Neville had rarely smiled. ‘Terry told her that he was prepared to plead guilty to the first two, but if she’d only just noticed that he was big and ugly then she was the stupid one. Terry actually spoke four sentences to me. Other than when he’s forced to give a verbal report, I think that’s a record,’ said Neville. Harry grinned. Terry was one of the quietest people they knew. ‘We’ve compiled quite a file based on the photographs you’ve taken. How’s your plan progressing? I hope you’ve had more luck than I did,’ said Neville anxiously. Harry was about to reply, but there was a knock on the door and Hamish Campbell walked in. ‘The Fiscal asked me to remind you that you need to get cleaned up,’ the Sheriff announced. He looked piercingly at the two young Aurors, ‘There’s something going on, more than simply your drunk girlfriend,’ he announced. ‘Isn’t there?’ Harry looked into the sharp blue eyes of the law officer, ‘I’m still on my mission,’ he admitted. ‘There’s a chance that I could be called away …’ ‘We could be called away,’ Neville corrected Harry. They left the meeting room and followed Sheriff Campbell back to the Law Office. ‘We,’ Harry agreed. ‘There may be an alarm going off. If it does, it will be for an “all available Aurors” response. I can’t say any more than that, please don’t ask me.’ ‘I can guess,’ Campbell said, ‘Law Office assistance will be available if required, Harry.’ ‘Thanks, Hamish, we should manage, we’ve got …’ he looked questioningly at Neville. ‘At least eighteen Aurors on duty and the London Magical Law Enforcement Office have a dozen hit-wizards on standby.’ Sheriff Campbell whistled thoughtfully upon hearing the information, but said nothing. ‘If we’re called away, I’ll ask Hermione and Luna to stay with Ginny,’ Harry told the Sheriff. ‘Fenella might stay, too.’ As if on cue the office door opened and Fenella Gray entered. She was a tall, hook-nosed young woman with long, raven-black hair. Her dark grey eyes were hidden behind thick, black-rimmed spectacles. Fenella looked uncomfortable, startled by the silence that greeted her arrival. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and, for a moment, it appeared that she was about to burst into tears. Ron had once described Fenella as a shy, pink, and fluffy, girly-girl trapped in a body ten sizes too big for her. She was much too tall to shrink into the background, but despite two years of advice, encouragement and friendship from Ginny and Luna, there were still occasions when she seemed a little uncomfortable in her own body. ‘Hello, Harry, hello, Neville,’ she said softly, her voice was a high pitched little-girl squeak, and barely more than a whisper. ‘Hamish, everyone,’ Harry announced. ‘This is Fenella Gray, our unofficial photographic expert.’ Fenella stared at her boots and shuffled nervously under everyone’s gaze before regaining some composure and slouching towards to Harry. She was a couple of inches taller than Harry, and her attempts to be smaller forced her into an ungainly hunched posture. ‘You’ll need these for today, Harry,’ she said, handing him copies of the photographs he’d taken at the Basin Bar. She put the large folder down on Hamish Campbell’s desk, looking enquiringly at the Law Officer. ‘This is Sheriff Hamish Campbell, Fenella,’ Harry said. ‘He’s very kindly letting us disrupt his office.’ ‘I have copies of the photographs for your files, too, Sheriff,’ said Fenella. ‘Harry took them, so they aren’t very good, I’m afraid. All are very badly composed; he did not take any account of the poor lighting conditions. One is badly out of focus.’ She looked disappointedly at Harry. ‘There’s more to photography than simply pointing and clicking, you know, it took me almost an hour to adjust this photograph.’ She pulled a photograph of one of the hexed children from the folder and waved it under Harry’s nose. ‘They look all right to me, Fenella,’ Neville said. She dismissed his assessment with a withering look, stood up straight and tall, and spoke forcefully. ‘If you’re going to use cameras for evidence gathering, you need training, Harry, or you need a specialist on call.’ Harry looked at her thoughtfully. Sometimes, especially when she was talking about photography, Fenella forgot to be slumped and shy and turned into a forceful and passionate young woman. ‘I’ll speak to Robards and Kingsley, are you interested in the job?’ he asked her. ‘I-I didn’t … I-I wasn’t …’ she stuttered, collapsing back into her usual nervous state. ‘Do you want to recommend someone else?’ enquired Harry. She shook her head. ‘I thought … Aunt Doxine … that would … job … no chance … Auror Office,’ she stammered. ‘I won’t blame you for your Aunt,’ Harry said, realising who Aunt Doxine was and somehow managing to make sense of Fenella’s disjointed, stammered phrases, ‘If you don’t blame me for mine.’ ‘I’ll need you to sign to say that you took these, Harry,’ Campbell interrupted, ‘then I can put them in the evidence files.’ Harry was busy signing the photographs when Ron and Hermione entered. They were not quite touching. His friends were watching each other carefully and exuding that peculiar, scared, silence that invariably followed them making up after an argument. ‘Neville,’ began Hermione. ‘Has Ron really been sending a memo to me every day?’ ‘No,’ Neville said. Hermione hissed and Ron opened his mouth to protest. ‘More like two or three, some days even more,’ clarified Neville hastily. ‘He sent flowers every day, too.’ ‘He told you to say that, didn’t he? Because he knew that Adrian Jenkins was giving me flowers every day,’ said Hermione accusingly. As Neville shook his head, Luna walked into the office with Bailiff Mark Moon behind her. She stared curiously around the silent room. ‘I can’t actually guarantee that it was every day,’ Neville admitted. ‘But I can say that it was most days, because I was usually with him when he placed the order.’ ‘But, Jenkins gave me flowers, every day,’ Hermione said in a small voice. ‘He deals with all incoming mail into your Department, Hermione,’ said Neville. ‘I spoke to Lavender through Parvati’s mirror this morning. We were talking about Harry’s case, making arrangements just in case Lavender needs to trigger an alert. But you know what she’s like she said that she’d been thinking about Jenkins, and that it was important that you remember that he sees all of the post first. She made me promise to tell you as soon as I saw you. I forgot, sorry.’ ‘He intercepted my memos and also pretended my flowers were from him!’ Ron’s eyes were blazing. ‘D’you reckon he’s in on it? The thing that’s affecting Ginny, whatever it is?’ ‘Possibly, but he’s fancied Hermione for years, ever since she started at the Ministry,’ Neville said. ‘Maybe he just saw his chance and took it. After all, he’d banned you from visiting her office; he probably thought that he could get away with it.’ ‘He’s what?’ Ron spluttered. ‘Banned Ron? Fancied me? How do you know?’ asked Hermione in disbelief. ‘You didn’t know about the ban?’ asked Neville. ‘Everybody in the Auror Office knows. Lavender told me about Jenkins. She thought that you knew. Everyone else does.’ ‘I didn’t,’ Harry said. ‘Neither did I!’ announced Luna, finally breaking her silence. ‘Relationships are very complicated, aren’t they? Perhaps it would be better if everyone was single and unattached like me, and Fenella.’ Fenella blushed. ‘It would not, Luna! I’d much rather have a complicated relationship with my girl than no relationship at all,’ said Ron forcefully. Hermione stepped forwards and hugged him. He happily entangled her in his arms. ‘What do you want us to do now, Harry?’ asked Ron, looking over Hermione’s head, and making it clear by his expression that, despite his offer, he had no intention of doing anything other than holding onto Hermione. ‘Nothing, we’re just waiting for the interviews,’ Harry told his friends, ‘I’ll be interviewing all three Harpies with the Fiscal, Ginny should be bailed after her interview. Then we can go home.’ ‘We’ll just wait here,’ said Hermione. She was holding Ron as tightly as he was holding her. ‘I’ll stay until Ginny is released, too,’ Neville said. ‘So will I,’ said Luna. ‘You’ll need some help to get through the press outside this building. I’d still have been stuck if this lovely big man hadn’t helped me.’ She beamed at Bailiff Moon who stood behind her carrying a large holdall, which Harry recognised as his own. ‘I’ve got clean clothes for you, and Hermione, and Ginny,’ said Luna happily, ‘Kreacher helped. He’s really very wonderful, isn’t he?’ ‘I suppose he is, yes,’ said Harry. ‘I wasn’t sure about underwear, Hermione,’ Luna continued, ‘you and Ginny have some very interesting things, don’t you? I’m not even sure how, or why, you wear some of them, so I just brought stuff that I recognised.’ Hermione blushed scarlet, Ron remained determinedly blank faced. ‘Not a topic for public discussion, Luna,’ murmured Harry. Luna looked at him quizzically and he could see the questions forming in her mind. ‘I need to get ready, is there a changing room I can use?’ he hastily asked Campbell before Luna could say anything really embarrassing. Campbell nodded, ‘And showers, Mark can show you.’ ‘Thanks, Hamish. I’ll go and get cleaned up.’ He followed the slim and angular Bailiff from the room. Fifteen minutes later, showered, shaved, and in clean clothes, Harry felt better than he had in days. There was still a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t hunger; it was a fear that things weren’t right between him and Ginny. Luna (or Kreacher) had packed a good selection of clothes for him, including a clean Auror uniform. After he had dried himself, he had put on jeans and a Harpies T shirt. He’d been about to leave the changing room when he reconsidered. He was going to be conducting interviews, and if the alarm went off, he should be in uniform. He changed into his black trousers, black boots, white shirt and grey tie. Harry Potter, Auror would carry out the interviews. Harry Potter, Harpies fan and (he hoped) Ginny’s boyfriend, would have to wait until later before he could talk to his girl. He checked his watch; it was only minutes before nine o’clock. He did not go back to the Law Office but instead knocked on the Fiscal’s door. ‘Come in,’ the Fiscal ordered. She smiled approvingly at the clean and tidy Auror who entered. ‘I’m just waiting for final confirmation from the Healer that the prisoners are fit for interview,’ she told Harry. ‘I intend to speak to Miss Weasley first.’ The Fiscal watched him carefully as she made the statement. Harry nodded his agreement though, from her face, it was apparent that the order of interviews was not something he could influence. ‘Hamish has given me copies of the photographs,’ Mrs Quarrell said. She pushed a photograph of one of the Bat-bogeyed children in front of Harry. ‘That is an interesting hex. Will Miss Weasley recognise it as her own work?’ ‘I expect so,’ Harry replied. ‘It’s one of her favourites.’ ‘I see,’ said the Fiscal. She nodded severely. ‘I know that I’m the arresting officer, and that I’ll be a prosecution witness,’ he continued. ‘But this isn’t like Ginny, it really isn’t. Hexing little kids!’ He shook his head sadly. There was a knock at the Fiscal’s door. A round faced, frowzy-haired witch in green Healers robes peered into the room. ‘Come in, Alice,’ said Mrs Quarrell. ‘All prisoners are fit for interview, Fiscal,’ the Healer reported. She was ignoring Mrs Quarrell and instead staring in rapt admiration at Harry as she spoke. ‘The Weasley girl has had a huge amount to drink. She has admitted to less than half of what I estimate. The first dose of hangover cure I gave her simply made her vomit. I’ve given her a second dose, but she’ll likely need more later.’ ‘Thank you, Alice,’ the Fiscal said. ‘You can go now,’ she added firmly, when the Healer showed some reluctance to leave. Alice slowly backed from the room still staring at Harry, who was unsure whether to be amused, annoyed or embarrassed by the middle-aged woman’s obvious hero-worship. He ignored her and, after carefully considering the Healer’s information, returned to more important matters. ‘Fiscal,’ Harry said carefully. ‘We, the Auror Office, have been investigating a company selling alcoholic pumpkin juice. We’ve discovered that the company was being run by several people on our wanted list. Their alcoholic pumpkin juice also contains an alcohol strengthening potion. I’ve been told that taking a hangover cure afterwards made Herm… one of the other people who’d drunk the pumpkin juice … violently sick, too.’ Edna Quarrell looked at him piercingly. He held her gaze. ‘Interesting! Thank you for the information. Now, let’s away, Auror Potter,’ the Fiscal instructed. They walked along to the interview room together. The interview room was small. The walls, floor and ceiling were white and the only furniture was a round table with four chairs spaced equidistantly around it. The table and the chair closest to the door were fixed to the floor. The chair also had restraint shackles attached to it. Augustus Tavistock was already seated. He had taken the seat on the right of the prisoner’s chair. Tavistock glowered at both Harry and the Fiscal as they entered. Edna Quarrell sat on the chair to the left, opposite Tavistock. Harry walked around the table and took the other seat, the one facing the door, and facing the prisoner. He nervously licked his dry lips. He wondered if Tavistock and Mrs Quarrell could hear his hammering heart, because the noise was echoing so thunderously in his ears that he thought it would deafen him. As soon as Harry sat, Edna Quarrell spoke. ‘Bring in Prisoner: cell five,’ she said clearly, to no-one in particular. ‘We will start with Miss Weasley, Mr Tavistock.’ They sat in uneasy silence until the door opened and Ginny, wearing plain grey prison robes, was brought into the room by a gaoler. Harry stood. ‘Sit down, Mr Potter,’ the Fiscal said sharply. ‘This is not a social occasion.’ Harry ignored her and remained standing until Ginny sat. She kept her head down and barely glanced at Harry when she walked into the room. Harry examined her in horror. She looked dreadful. She was trembling and shaking as she slumped in the chair. She had a huge blue-black bruise under her right eye, both eyes were bloodshot and her skin, under her freckles, was an ashen grey. Her lips were pale and cracked and her cheeks were sunken. Her hair, her beautiful hair, was tangled and untidy, a matt and lifeless mess. Her usually bright brown eyes were dull and almost dead. It was as though Ginny was not there, as if this was someone else, he thought as he tried to stare into her eyes. As he looked, Harry saw Ginny slowly register his anxiety. He read her face as it ruefully showed her own concern for him. She was worried for him, at least as worried as he was for her. That was enough to kindle the first glimmers of hope. They were all right, they were still together. He smiled sorrowfully at her. She smiled back, but winced as her lips cracked. She licked them. ‘Oh, Harry,’ she croaked. ‘What has happened to us?’ ‘Miss Weasley, as your legal representative I must insist that you remain silent. You should not say anything which may incriminate you,’ Tavistock ordered. ‘My advice is that you do not say anything at all. Allow me to answer all questions put to you.’ The Fiscal waited for Tavistock to finish his warnings before reading the list of charges. Mrs Quarrell then carefully explained to Ginny that this was a formal interview, in order to decide whether or not to proceed to a prosecution. ‘My client pleads not guilty to all charges and wishes to advise you that she will be lodging a formal complaint with regard to her wrongful arrest,’ announced Tavistock, smugly. Ginny glanced at Tavistock in surprise before returning her gaze to Harry. He again looked into her dull, bloodshot and watery eyes. She was having difficulty focussing, but she had obviously registered the disquiet in his expression. ‘Do I look that bad?’ she whispered, as she again licked her lips. Harry nodded sadly. ‘Miss Weasley, silence!’ Tavistock ordered. There was a sudden spark in Ginny’s eyes. Harry stared at her; she was beginning to smoulder. He recognised the signs. How could he fan the flames? ‘Why is he here, Harry?’ Ginny asked, glancing towards Tavistock. ‘And who’s she?’ She looked at the Fiscal in interest. ‘I will answer that question, Miss Weasley,’ Edna Quarrell said forcefully, before either Harry or Tavistock could speak. ‘Mr Tavistock is, as you know, the solicitor for Holyhead Harpies and is your legal representative. He is here to give you legal advice. I am Edna Quarrell, Procurator Fiscal; I am here to investigate the allegations. Mr Potter is here at my request, as arresting officer.’ ‘I didn’t dream it then?’ Ginny asked. The flicker of fire in her eyes, which had dimmed the moment she’d looked away from Harry, was suddenly extinguished. ‘Miss Weasley, please, I must insist that you neither ask, nor answer, any questions.’ Tavistock interrupted, ‘You have heard the charges. My advice is that you say nothing, simply enter a plea of not guilty. I will arrange for your immediate release. I have a press conference arranged for noon.’ The Fiscal looked piercingly at Tavistock when he made this announcement. Harry noticed this out of the corner of his eye. He continued to look concernedly at Ginny, trying to reconnect with his girl. She was in there somewhere, he was certain. While Tavistock and Quarrell were glaring at each other Harry put his hands on the table, palms uppermost. Ginny immediately reached across and put her hands into his. He squeezed them gently, smiled at her and watched hopefully as the fire began to re-ignite. ‘Miss Weasley, I must protest!’ Tavistock spluttered. Ginny threw him a scornful glance. ‘Why?’ she asked. This time, Harry realised, the fire was taking hold. Ginny was finding her fighting spirit. He gently stroked his thumbs over the back of her hands. ‘Potter arrested you!’ Tavistock told her. ‘You can’t hold his hands! Let go at once.’ ‘Why?’ asked Ginny. ‘As your solicitor I am trying to protect your interests.’ Tavistock snapped. Ginny turned on him, ‘No, you’re not. You’re trying to protect the club’s interests,’ Ginny’s bloodshot eyes were now alight, not as bright as they should be, but no longer an empty void. She turned back to Harry. ‘Can’t we just go?’ she asked loudly and huskily. ‘Does he have to be here? Does she?’ ‘I will answer your questions,’ said the Fiscal firmly. ‘You cannot leave this room until you enter a plea, Miss Weasley. As Procurator Fiscal, I must be here. As arresting officer, Mr Potter may be here at my request. I have the power to ask him to leave. I must warn you that I am considering doing just that.’ Tavistock smiled smugly. Ginny tightened her grip on her boyfriend’s hands. ‘As a prisoner under charge,’ the Fiscal continued, ‘you must be here too.’ The Fiscal paused and tried to catch Ginny’s eyes. ‘You and I are the only ones who must be here Miss Weasley,’ she told Ginny. ‘It is your right to have a solicitor, or a friend, present to advise you. Your employers have appointed Mr Tavistock to that role.’ Harry silently emphasised the Fiscal’s words by gently rubbing the knuckle of Ginny’s ring finger with his thumb. ‘You can’t make me leave.’ Tavistock told Edna Quarrell arrogantly. ‘No,’ agreed the Fiscal, ‘I can’t.’ Harry saw the glimmer of understanding dawning on Ginny’s face. He was about to rub her knuckle again, but she squeezed his palm, using their “I understand” signal. She was about to do what the Fiscal had very carefully not suggested. Her eyes sparked. She turned angrily to Tavistock. ‘Get out,’ she ordered. The solicitor’s arrogant smile vanished instantly. ‘What?’ he spluttered in disbelief. ‘Get out, Mr Tavistock,’ Ginny said hoarsely, ‘I want you to leave, now!’ ‘Miss Weasley,’ he said dismissively. ‘Don’t be so foolish. You are ignorant of the law and I am a highly regarded expert. You must have a solicitor! Who, other than myself, could possibly represent your best interests at such an emotionally trying time?’ Ginny’s eyes flamed dangerously. ‘A friend,’ she snapped. ‘Harry.’ Tavistock turned purple so quickly that Harry was unpleasantly reminded of his unmissed Uncle Vernon. ‘Ridiculous,’ Tavistock blustered angrily. ‘He’s the arresting officer you little idiot! You can’t!’ ‘Mr Tavistock,’ the Fiscal said coldly. ‘You have heard Miss Weasley’s wishes. While her choice of representative is … unusual … it is not, so far as I am aware, illegal. I know, and you know, that Miss Weasley can dismiss you. Despite the fact that he is the arresting officer, I know of no reason why she can’t ask Mr Potter to assist her, to act as her friend. Can you quote me a legal precedent to the contrary?’ Tavistock began protesting loudly. ‘Miss Weasley,’ the Fiscal asked, cutting across Tavistock. ‘In the interests of clarity, can I ask? Do you wish to dispense with the services of Mr Augustus Tavistock as your legal representative?’ ‘Yes,’ said Ginny. ‘And do you instead wish to receive advice from your … friend … Harry Potter?’ Mrs Quarrell continued. ‘Yes,’ said Ginny. ‘In the knowledge that he is both arresting officer and a prosecution witness?’ she demanded. ‘Yes,’ said Ginny firmly. ‘Thank you. Now, get out, Mr Tavistock, or I shall have you forcibly removed. I need say only one word to get Sheriff Campbell in here to take you away. I am certain that he would be very happy to help me.’ Harry looked hopefully at the Fiscal, then at Gus Tavistock before releasing one of Ginny’s hands and reaching into his pocket to take hold of his own wand. Tavistock snapped his mouth shut with an audible clatter of teeth, scowled at Harry, and left the room. ‘You will regret this, Miss Weasley,’ he shouted angrily. When the door slammed shut Ginny stood up and leaned across the table towards Harry. He too, stood. The Fiscal hastily followed suit and pushed them apart. ‘I will not have the prisoner kissing the arresting officer,’ she ordered. ‘This is ridiculous.’ ‘It’s probably just as well,’ admitted Ginny. ‘I haven’t been able to clean my teeth properly this morning. My mouth tastes awful.’ Harry reached into his pocket, pulled out a packet of sweets and gave one to her. ‘Tooth-flossing stringmints,’ he told her. ‘An essential part of an undercover Auror’s equipment.’ ‘Mr Potter, Miss Weasley,’ said the Fiscal exasperatedly. ‘Can we please get back to the matter at hand?’ The two sat, smiled and nodded. They again reached across the table. Ginny firmly grasped Harry’s left hand in her right, and Harry watched as his girlfriend fought her way free from whatever had been affecting her. ‘Miss Weasley, do you understand the charges?’ ‘Mmphh, uh-huh,’ nodded Ginny struggling to speak with a stringmint in her mouth. ‘For the record, the prisoner indicated yes,’ the Fiscal said clearly. ‘Do you have anything to say in your defence, Miss Weasley?’ ‘Gig I weally hex fwee li’l ki’s ‘n a,’ Ginny gulped down the stringmint. ‘And a law officer?’ ‘I didn’t see you cast the spell, but I’ve seen that hex often enough.’ Harry told her. The Fiscal slid one of the photographs he’d taken over the table towards her. ‘That looks like my hex,’ Ginny whispered sadly. ‘The girl’s parents signed a statement identifying you,’ Harry told her. ‘A statement they have now formally withdrawn,’ the Fiscal said, ‘As have the parents of a second child. I understand that they received a visit from Mr Tavistock, very late last night. These matters may, of course, be unrelated.’ ‘They’re not,’ Ginny muttered. She turned to Harry. ‘Did I hex you?’ ‘No, but you tried,’ Harry told her. ‘And did you shout at me?’ she asked. ‘Yes, sorry.’ ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, Harry.’ Ginny said in a small voice. ‘It’s almost like, somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s someone who wants to hurt you, physically and mentally. I can’t even understand how I got so drunk. After last week I was definitely going to stick with Butterbeers, I had four at that bar in Aberdeen. But I don’t remember what happened after we left.’ ‘Did you drink anything before you went out?’ The Fiscal asked. ‘No,’ Ginny said. ‘Well, only some pumpkin juice.’ Harry glanced at the Edna Quarrell, who nodded. ‘Whose idea was that?’ Harry asked. ‘Linny’s, it’s a stomach liner, she says. I’ve been doing it for weeks. It doesn’t seem to help much,’ admitted Ginny. Harry sighed, ‘Could it have been the stuff that Ron gave Hermione?’ he asked. ‘No!’ she snorted dismissively. ‘I’m not that stupid, Harry. I know what those bottles look like, a couple of fans tried to give me some Mark D’Arque juice weeks ago. I was drinking the club-branded stuff, Harpies Extra-energy Pumpkin Juice. We’ve got a larder full of it.’ ‘Have you been going out to parties during the week?’ Harry asked. ‘During the season? Of course not,’ she snapped. Harry was pleased to see her reaction. ‘Hermione and I both tried to phone you, Hermione tried several times. I only had one chance. Linny told me that you were out, partying, she told Hermione the same thing,’ said Harry. ‘When did you phone?’ asked Ginny. Harry shrugged, ‘I’d have to check the date … it was the day before the new moon.’ Ginny gasped as realisation struck, she immediately changed the subject. ‘Last night was the full moon,’ she stared at him, wide eyed. ‘Are you all right?’ ‘This conversation is being recorded,’ the Fiscal interjected, looking with renewed interest at Harry. ‘I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it later.’ Harry promised. ‘I phoned on a Sunday, it was the day after the Puddlemere game.’ ‘I was at the flat all night, I’m sure I was.’ Ginny searched her memory, puzzled. ‘That’s not what Linny told me.’ There was a thoughtful silence, which the Fiscal broke. ‘I have allowed this conversation to stray from the matter at hand, Miss Weasley. It is time for us to move forward. You have told me that you understand the charges,’ she said. ‘I would like you to consider what to do next. I am going to ask you to enter a plea. If you plead not guilty, or if you refuse to enter a plea, you will be summoned to appear before the Justiciar a week on Saturday for a preliminary hearing. If you plead guilty you will be summoned for sentencing before the Justiciar on that same day. Do you understand?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Are you willing to enter a plea?’ ‘Yes, guilty.’ ‘Thank you Miss Weasley,’ the Fiscal handed Ginny a summons card. ‘You are free to go. No doubt Mr Tavistock is outside, but you have some friends …’ ‘I’ve missed you,’ Harry began. Ginny threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her breath was still stale despite the stringmint, and her hair smelled unpleasantly of vomit and Butterbeer, but Harry didn’t care; they were still together. ‘Auror Potter, please! We have two more prisoners to interview. Miss Weasley, your friends are waiting for you. Mr Potter can take you to them. Do it now, Potter, and I want you straight back here!’ the Fiscal ordered. Hand in hand, Harry led Ginny past a protesting Tavistock and into the Law Office, where Neville, Ron and Fenella rushed across to greet her. ‘Luna and Hermione are taking showers,’ Ron said. ‘How are you, Ginny? You look bloody awful.’ ‘Thanks for the kind words, Ron,’ Ginny replied, ‘I feel terrible, and I’m in desperate need of a shower, too.’ ‘I’ve got to go back, Ginny, sorry,’ Harry said. ‘Ron and everyone will look after you. I hope that I won’t be long.’ He kissed her again and left. When Harry returned to the interview room, the Fiscal was arguing with Tavistock. ‘…unprecedented or not, it’s not illegal, and you are well aware that you cannot prevent someone from refusing your counsel,’ stated Edna Quarrell. ‘Now, Auror Potter, who next, do you think?’ ‘Miss Aikenhead,’ Harry replied. ‘I agree, bring in Prisoner, cell one, Olivia Aikenhead.’ The door opened a few minutes later and the Harpies Seeker was brought into the room by the gaoler. Harry, again, stood. ‘Auror Potter,’ the Fiscal reminded Harry. ‘There is no need to stand.’ ‘It’s not illegal, is it?’ Harry asked. The Fiscal smiled wryly and shook her head. Olivia Aikenhead looked around the room in confusion. She too, was in a grey prison robe. She looked to be in better health than Ginny, but frightened and unsure of herself. ‘You appear confused, Miss Aikenhead,’ the Fiscal began. ‘Allow me to explain what is going on. I am Edna Quarrell, Procurator Fiscal; I am here to investigate the allegations made against you and to decide whether to prosecute. Auror Potter is here at my request, as arresting officer. Mr Tavistock is solicitor for the Holyhead Harpies and is your legal representative. He is here to represent your interests.’ The Fiscal then read the list of charges to Olivia. ‘I advise you to say nothing, Miss Aikenhead,’ Tavistock spoke very sharply. Olivia looked at him in surprise. ‘How’s Ginny?’ she asked Harry. ‘Tshaw!’ Tavistock spluttered. ‘Say nothing, please.’ Harry looked at the Fiscal, who nodded. ‘Ginny is okay, but she’s still very hungover.’ ‘As I have just explained to Mr Tavistock,’ the Fiscal said quietly, ‘Miss Weasley has chosen to plead guilty to the charges. Mr Tavistock is employed by the Holyhead Harpies to give you legal advice. Miss Weasley chose to disregard that advice. The only defence she gave for her actions was that she was extremely drunk. It would greatly help my investigation if you could tell me how much you all drank at the Magpies Nest in Aberdeen before you left for the Basin Bar, Montrose.’ Olivia was on the verge of speaking when Tavistock barked out, ‘My client declines to answer.’ The Seeker closed her mouth. ‘Miss Aikenhead, Miss Weasley has already entered a plea of guilty; even if you do not wish to answer for yourself, you could help your friend by telling us how much she drank. Olivia nodded her head and began, ‘She …’ ‘Miss Aikenhead, please,’ Tavistock hissed. ‘My client declines to answer.’ The Seeker frowned, but said nothing. ‘Miss Weasley claims that she drank only four bottles of Butterbeer at the Magpies Nest, but she was reported to be heavily intoxicated when you all arrived in Montrose,’ the Fiscal continued. ‘Can you offer any explanation for this? It has been suggested that she was given alcoholic pumpkin juice.’ Olivia suddenly looked horrified. She seemed to be close to tears. The Seeker began breathing rapidly and looked down at her clenched fists. ‘My client declines to answer,’ Tavistock stated forcefully. ‘Livy,’ Harry said quietly. The Seeker didn’t speak, she kept her eyes down. ‘Livy, look at me, please,’ he repeated softly. She glanced up nervously and Harry looked her in the eyes. ‘Tell me what you’re worried about,’ he begged. Olivia Aikenhead burst into tears and Tavistock shouted, ‘This is harassment. My client declines to answer any questions.’ ‘Please, Livy?’ Harry asked again. Over Tavistock’s protests the girl replied. ‘Linny insisted that we have a few pumpkin juices before we went out, she always brought them with her. Yesterday, after the game, I helped myself to a bottle of “Harpies’ Extra-energy” from her bag. She snatched it from me gave it to Ginny, and gave me a different bottle. The bottles looked the same to me. I didn’t think much about it yesterday, but now…’ Livy stopped and gave a silent sob. ‘But now, you suspect that Linny had some bottles which were especially for Ginny?’ asked Harry. Tavistock continued to protest loudly, trying to shout down his client, but it was to no avail. Livy did not speak, but she did not need to, she simply nodded. ‘Are you prepared to make a statement to that effect?’ Edna Quarrell asked. A red-faced Tavistock desperately shouted, ‘Miss Aikenhead, say nothing, and please don’t move your head.’ Livy ignored him and nodded again. ‘How much did Ginny have?’ Harry asked. ‘Three bottles,’ Olivia sobbed. Harry whistled, ‘the equivalent of about six shots of Firewhisky before you even started. And did she drink a half-bottle of Firewhisky at the Basin Bar?’ ‘Linny and I had a couple of swigs, but Ginny had most of it,’ admitted Livy. ‘It’s a wonder she was still standing,’ Harry said. ‘Do you really think that Linny might have been slipping Ginny alcoholic pumpkin juice?’ ‘Miss Aikenhead, I strongly advise you to make “no comment” or allow me to answer the questions,’ said Tavistock through clenched teeth. ‘I can’t be certain,’ said Olivia, but she again nodded her head. ‘You’d be prepared to make a statement to that effect?’ asked the Fiscal. ‘Yes.’ ‘Miss Aikenhead, Olivia,’ Tavistock pleaded, ‘I am trying to help you avoid a fine, a criminal record, and probably a match ban.’ ‘I want to tell the truth,’ said Olivia stubbornly. ‘To tell Harry what happened.’ It took some time for Olivia to make her statement, with Augustus Tavistock objecting at every point. Eventually the Australian Seeker was satisfied, and signed the document. ‘Miss Aikenhead,’ the Fiscal said, ‘I am prepared to charge you with the sole offence of being drunk and disorderly. I am going to ask you to enter a plea. If you plead not guilty, or if you refuse to enter a plea, you will be summoned to appear before the Justiciar next Saturday for a preliminary hearing. If you plead guilty you will be liable to an immediate fine, and once you’ve completed the paperwork, you will be free to leave. The level of the fine is based upon your earnings. Last night’s escapade will cost you two hundred galleons.’ ‘Is that all?’ Olivia asked. ‘Guilty, and I’m sorry for the trouble we’ve caused.’ ‘Thank you for the apology, Miss Aikenhead, it has been noted. You may go,’ announced the Fiscal. ‘Auror Potter, please take Miss Aikenhead to the Law Office. There are forms to be filled and prison robes to be returned.’ She motioned for Harry to leave, and turned to address the Harpies’ solicitor. ‘Now, Mr Tavistock, in light of two guilty pleas and the allegations you have just heard, I will grant you additional time to consult with your third client. You may use this room, let me know when you are ready, I’ll be in my office.’ With that, the Fiscal followed Harry and Olivia from the interview room. ‘Thanks, Olivia, Harry said, as he led her along the corridor to the Law Office. ‘What happens now?’ she asked. ‘I’m not sure. You’re free to go, but not in prison robes.’ ‘I’ve got to walk out of here in the clothes I wore yesterday? But they’re …’ Olivia Aikenhead shivered in distaste. Harry pushed open the door of the Law Office and was immediately surrounded by his friends. Ginny had showered and changed out of her prison robes. Her shining hair was brushed back and tied into a ponytail. Ginny’s tight trousers were bright blue and as she rushed forwards to greet him, her long and baggy bateau-neck black sweater slipped sideways revealing a bare shoulder. He smiled at her. His Ginny was back, still subdued, but almost back to normal. Between them, with interruptions and questions from everyone else, Harry and Olivia told them what had happened. Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek. She’d cleaned her teeth again, as well as washing her hair. She even smelled like Ginny again, though her eyes still had not fully regained their sparkle. ‘So, you think Linny was putting alcoholic pumpkin juice into some Harpies bottles?’ asked Ginny angrily. ‘And possibly something else, too,’ Ron said grimly. ‘I’m glad you’re back, Harry,’ said Ginny. ‘I’ve missed you.’ She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. He winced. She released him quickly and took a step backwards. ‘What haven’t you told me?’ she asked, hands on hips. ‘It’s nothing serious,’ he told her, ‘just a scratch.’ Ginny folded her arms and regarded him in frank disbelief. Harry recognised the look. Suddenly, the impetuous, unstoppable, wonderful force that was his Ginny was standing in front of him. And she wasn’t happy. ‘Well,’ he admitted, realising that now he was facing the real Ginny, he’d have to deal with her concerns, ‘just a lot of very deep scratches.’ He hesitated. She noticed. ‘And?’ she asked threateningly. ‘And a couple of broken ribs,’ he confessed. ‘And I took a crossbow bolt to the leg a few days ago, but that’s pretty well healed, now,’ he told her hopefully. ‘Take your shirt off,’ Ginny ordered, looking around at her friends, trying to see whether he’d been hiding his injuries from them, too. ‘He didn’t say anything to me!’ Hermione said. ‘Or me,’ Ron added. ‘There was nothing in his last report,’ Neville told her. His friends looked worried and Ginny was annoyed. There was no point in protesting, he’d have to show Ginny his injuries and tell her everything. He carefully began to unbutton his shirt. Ginny helped him and gently pulled it open. ‘What,’ she asked, ‘is that?’ She pointed at the moss protruding from the edge of his bandages. ‘It’s a poultice, it’s supposed to remove the scarring, the Healer who did it is a werewolf expert,’ Harry reassured her. ‘An expert on werewolves, or an expert who is a werewolf?’ Ginny asked acidly. ‘Both,’ Harry said, ‘you’ll like her.’ ‘What else haven’t you told me?’ asked Ginny. ‘Lots! I’ve had a busy few days with werewolves, Unforgiveable Curses, kids, wanted Snatchers, and a drunken girlfriend. Not to mention poor Lavender who…’ Harry’s mischievous streak took over, he grinned. ‘Is now the right time for me to admit to kissing Lavender Brown last night?’ he asked. Ginny laughed. ‘That’s a story you will definitely have to tell me,’ she said. ‘I’ll need that meeting room again, Hamish,’ said Harry. |
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