Murderer at Hogwarts! Are Our Children Safe?!
As Reported by Rita Skeeter
Do you know who is teaching your children? Do you know who you are entrusting their safety to? Is there more going on behind the scenes at Hogwarts than we realize? Collusion? Corruption? Child endangerment?
Worry not, gentle Wizards and noble Witches! This reporter has the scoop!
Some may be aware but for those who aren't, there are two new Professors at Hogwarts this year. The DADA Professor is a retired Auror by the name of Alastor Moody. A more qualified man for the job, this Reporter cannot think of!
The other new Professor is something of a novelty. An Assistant Professor! A position that hasn't been seen filled in over a decade! As far as this Reporter has gathered, Atlas White is a Muggle-born Wizard with a solid schooling record and several NEWTs to his name. As a fresh Hogwarts graduate, he is now working as an Assistant Professor while he pursues his Masteries.
According to the whispers within the Castle, Professor White is seemingly liked and well-respected by students and staff alike. His teaching style is innovative and promising, capturing admiration for how he engages with the students. For the more gossip-inclined readers among us, he appears to be in a relationship with his former Professor and current peer, Professor Septima Vector. A story of love developing through shared knowledge! How romantic~!
But that's not all, folks! Professor White has also been dragged into the drama surrounding the Triwizard Tournament. More specifically, the fourth champion and Girl-Who-Lived, Heather Potter! He's taken her as his ward to offer her the protection and support she desperately needs to survive this tournament, citing the fact that, as the fourth champion, she is not technically associated with Hogwarts. Favoritism perhaps, but more than fair in this Reporter's opinion!
He is likely responsible for training young Heather Potter to do the daring, magic-defying stunts we all witnessed from her during the First Task! A wonderful display of skill and valor that still has Wizards and Witches scrambling to explain how she did it! Respect where respect is due. This Reporter tips her cap to Professor Atlas White and young Heather Potter!
Here's where the story gets muddled and concerning, however, my good readers! After the First Task, Professor White was seen being questioned by a good and dutiful Auror about his role in the events of this summer's Cup Riot! This Reporter is proud to bring you this explosive, exciting, and exclusive development in the situation thanks to the hard work of an undisclosed source!
When asked why he was attending the World Cup, Professor White replied, "I was tasked with chaperoning Heather Potter and her friend Hermione Granger by Headmaster Dumbledore."
An interesting reason and one that adds more weight to any accusations of favoritism that may loom in the Professor's future.
However! That's not all! Professor White was seated in the Top Box of the stadium with the Minister and his guests when the Minister's wand went missing. *Gasp!* Surely, that is just a coincidence, right? Yet he 'claimed' there was no premeditation behind his seating arrangements and even had an excuse prepared for what happened to Minister Fudge's wand.
This Reporter would like to take a brief moment to reassure her readers that she is not levying any accusations. This Reporter simply reports the facts and leaves it up to her readers to form their own opinions!
Back to the interview! The Auror then tried to discern what Professor White did during the Riot itself. The Professor mentioned getting up to — and I quote — "a bit of trouble" and "a few pranks". What pranks could he possibly have been referring to and do we really want some troublemaker as a role model for our children?
The good Professor claimed that Death Eaters were responsible for the chaos of the Riot, even claiming that he witnessed Unforgivables being used! The Auror, of course, corrected him as he should. This seemed to be a mistake on our public servant's part! After being corrected, Professor White stopped cooperating altogether.
The Auror and Professor went back and forth unproductively for a few moments. Then the Auror moved to take the Professor into custody for further questioning. And then something shocking!
The Auror's stunning spell seemed to splash harmlessly off of Professor Atlas. It was as if he wasn't affected at all! And it doesn't even end there! Another Auror came out of nowhere to stun the first.
According to this second Auror, Madam Amelia Bones — the Head of the DMLE — worries about foul play when concerning Professor White! Who are his enemies? Who would try to silence a simple Assistant Professor? Why would they need to? And to what ends will they go to achieve their goals?
As a result of this interview and short confrontation, Professor White has been put under an Auror's guard. Expect a trial in the near future! Professor White will have to prove his innocence regarding the Cup Riot and the deaths of several upstanding Pure-Blood Lords! This Reporter will do her best to keep the public posted on these concerning events as they develop!
In other news, Hogwarts will soon be hosting a fourth, unexpected Task for the Triwizard Tournament! A wonderfully ironic turn of events, if you ask this Reporter. A surprise fourth champion and a surprise fourth task to go along with her! The Yule Ball shall be held on the Winter Solstice. Stay tuned for first-hand reporting of anything and everything interesting for those who can't attend in person…
IIIII
"How the hell does she even know about all of this?" I asked, mostly to myself.
"Perhaps she is her undisclosed source. As in she was listening in on your interview somehow," Septima theorized.
"But how? There wasn't a single other person-… I swear to magic…" I stopped myself as realization struck me.
"You had an idea of how she listened?"
"What is it with people in my life and being Animagus?!" I raged without raging. "That's the only feasible way she could have been listening. If she was under an invisibility cloak or disillusionment, I'm sure Tonks would have caught her. She must have a small, unsuspecting Animagus form."
Septima furrowed her brows as she thought, "That makes… a concerning amount of sense. It also marks the beginning of an equally concerning trend in your life as you said. Your father, your mother, and now a reporter who wishes to drag your name through the dirt."
"Who's next?" I asked rhetorically. "Is Luna suddenly going to turn into a Snorkack and get into even more trouble than usual?"
I looked up from the Prophet and around the Great Hall. My eyes landed on Luna at the Ravenclaw table. She waved cheerfully at me when she caught my gaze, thankfully ignorant of me and Septima's conversation. I didn't want to give her any ideas. I waved back, smiling as if I hadn't just invoked something terribly troublesome in my future.
Looking around the rest of the Great Hall, I could see that the whispers and rumors had already started. I wasn't expecting anything less though. I was suddenly on the front page of the Prophet with an eye-catching title like "Murderer at Hogwarts".
I'd have to start filtering my mail somehow. I could imagine a couple of the more rash parents taking Skeeter's reporting and running with it. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd done to get on her bad side. She'd definitely presented her information with a slant against me. Surely, this wasn't because I stopped her from interviewing me and Heather after the First Task, right?
Though, maybe there could be a silver lining here. Maybe it would cut down on the number of female students who tried to court me, especially when it came to the Yule Ball. I'd been able to fend them off so far by citing the fact that I was their Professor and that I was going with Septima and Aurora. But that didn't stop them from continuing to try. I was still fielding at least one proposal a day.
With that silver lining in mind, I looked back over the Great Hall and all the students sitting there. Yeah… that wasn't happening. Everywhere I looked, girls were giggling to each other, writing on parchment — strangely enough —, and glancing up at me. Even more so than usual. And joining the usual suspects like Lavender and Parvati were just about every Dark-leaning female student in the Castle. Even the ones from the visiting schools — Durmstrang in particular.
Who knew girls would crush on an older, authority figure with a hint of danger to them? I certainly couldn't have predicted this as an outcome of being accused of murder. Girls like bad boys? My mother says I'm a very good boy, thank you very much!
Heh, it felt surprisingly good to be able to casually reference my mother now that she wasn't so absent in my life. She was still an absolute nutter but we were working on that. Even just spending time with Luna, Septima, and me seemed to help her quite a bit.
Nursing her back to sanity and health would be a long-term project. So while Bella was doing better, I didn't trust her to leave my room, and not just because she was a very wanted woman. We would have to see about expanding her socialization circle soon though. I'd just gotten my parents back and already it felt like I was parenting them more than the other way around. And unlike Sirius, I didn't think it would be an easy thing to prove her innocence, mainly because she was only technically innocent — on the grounds that she wasn't in control of her actions.
Then there was the phenomenon I'd cautiously dubbed Azkaban Syndrome that both Sirius and Bella were suffering from. According to Andromeda — Tonks' mother whom Sirius went to visit the other day —, Sirius was certainly dying. It was a slow, insidious thing, born of years of unending torture at the ghastly hands of Dementors. One that could take years to come to fruition. Which meant we had plenty of time to search for a cure. I don't think Heather would ever forgive me if I let her Godfather die. I wouldn't forgive myself either.
"Hmmm…" Septima hummed. "Yes. No. No. No. Maybe. Merlin, no!"
"What are you doing?" I asked in amusement, dragged back to the present by her odd words.
"Scouting for the coven," Septima explained nonchalantly.
I chuckled, "You minx. You make it sound like we're offering them jobs. Don't we have our hands full enough already?"
"Possibly," Septima allowed. "I am just keeping our options open. Perhaps we should see about including some foreign blood as well."
"We already have Gabrielle," I pointed out.
Septima nodded, "Yes, and a Veela is a good start but we can do better. I have at least three equations for the optimal coven set-up and I won't have them going to waste. Look here-…"
I shook my head fondly as Septima conjured a bit of parchment and began writing out a lengthy equation. Of course, she would have min-maxed her ideal relationship with Arithmancy. I didn't have the heart to tell her that things like this had to happen naturally. While we could go around recruiting, we would end up with something that looked more like a company than a coven.
Still, I paid attention as Septima plotted out every quality and condition she considered an advantage to have in the coven. From varying blood statuses to magical inclinations and prior commitments. She'd thought about this relationship way too much. That was charming in its own way though.
I only moved to interrupt her after noticing a bit of parchment on my plate that hadn't been there a moment before, "Hold on, Septima… Huh, it seems Albus wishes to speak with me in his office. Hopefully, he has something else he wants to talk about and the Prophet article hasn't already become an issue…"
"I… see," Septima frowned, a bit disappointed.
"Why don't you go find Hermione while I do this?" I suggested. "If you make it out to be a lesson, I imagine you can regale her with your coven equations until dinner."
She perked up, "A wonderful idea! And I can work on getting through her silly Muggle-raised ideas of what a relationship should be. She is one of the top recruits on my list, after all."
"You do that, dear," I said, patting her head lightly.
She pouted at me but it didn't take away from her excitement. Soon enough, she was making her way toward the Gryffindor table and commandeering Hermione for her nefarious, math-related purposes. Heather followed as well, ignorant of what they were getting themselves into.
Chuckling, I finished up my breakfast and got up to make my way to Dumbledore's office. Tonks joined me soon after I left the Great Hall, having taken to disguising herself as a student to guard me when I was in the Castle's public spaces.
"You two have a very interesting relationship," She commented, falling into step next to me as her features shifted back to her usual look.
I sighed, "I wish you wouldn't stick listening charms on us, Tonks."
She shrugged, "Security necessities."
I scoffed but changed the subject, "Think this morning's Prophet will have an effect on anything?"
"Possibly. I wouldn't open any mail from now on if I were you. Or at least, wait until I check it. And the trial will probably be moved up."
"Business as usual though?"
"Pretty much."
We fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the journey to the Headmaster's office. It had been surprisingly easy to incorporate Tonks into my routine. She could be surprisingly unobtrusive for someone who usually sported pink hair. When we reached the Headmaster's gargoyle, I said the provided password and we let ourselves up.
"Ah, Atlas, Miss Tonks," Dumbledore greeted. "Thank you for joining me so quickly."
"I was no issue, Albus," I replied. "What's up?"
Dumbledore smiled genially, "I simply wanted to offer my advice for dealing with the fire you've come under this morning. Dealing with public opinion can be such a stressful affair. I wouldn't want you to worry yourself too much."
"Yeah," I sighed. "I don't know how Heather deals with this constantly."
"Quite," Dumbledore agreed. "She is in an especially awkward situation there seeing as she cannot 'hit back', per se, as well as others might."
His words gave me a moment of pause and an idea, "Hit back…? It's not perfect but there is another source of information and news in Wizarding Britain. And I just so happen to be rather close to the daughter of its publisher…"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as if he'd led me exactly where he wanted, "I'm sure Miss Lovegood would be quite eager to tell your side of the story. And young Heather has enough stories to keep Xenophilius busy for the rest of the year. While limited in scope, The Quibbler's audience is rather devoted. Swaying them to your side could be quite the coup in the court of public opinion."
"It's something to think about for sure," I considered. "What do you think, Tonks?"
She shrugged, "Can't hurt. Fight fire with fire and all that. Although… I don't know if Madam Bones will approve of you calling that much attention to yourself before the trial. Sets a bad example for operational security."
"Skeeter and the Prophet did it first."
Tonks sighed, "I guess I can't argue with that. Maybe just try not to mention Fudge being behind this all before the trial is over with then?"
Dumbledore chuckled, "But that's the best part, my dear. Xenophilius will jump at the chance to report on yet another Ministry conspiracy and it won't attract any undue attention. He's on a different conspiracy kick every week these days. Meanwhile, those with the ability to read between the lines will be able to discern the truth of Atlas' situation."
"I'll talk to Luna about making an interview appointment with her father. There are some other things I should really talk to him about as well…" I suppressed a shudder at that. I was not looking forward to telling Luna's father that I'd all but adopted her.
Amusement twinkled in Dumbledore's eyes, "I'm sure old Xeno will understand. If I recall, his relationship with Luna's mother was somewhat similar. Less of a 'coven-adoption' angle but he could be quite the viciously protective fellow when they were younger. And of course, Seline was just as blessed as our Luna."
"If you have stories about her mother and father when they were young, you should really tell her," I asserted firmly.
Dumbledore's expression softened, "Yes… Yes, I think I will."
There was a momentary silence as Dumbledore seemed to exist in the past just as much as in the present. Tonks eventually broke the silence with a snort, "Hell, you probably have stories about our parents as well. Everyone's really. With how many people were lost in the last war, it might be a good idea to make yourself and your stories available for the students."
Dumbledore's smile could have lit up the room, "That, Miss Tonks, is a splendid idea. I'm sure I could justify taking a little bit of time off my duties to simply spend time with the students in such a nostalgic and wholesome way."
He chuckled softly, "Why, the stories I have about both of your parents could certainly entertain a generation."
I nodded, accepting his words at face value before the implication behind them hit me like a ton of bricks, "… You know who my parents are."
At least he had the decency to look sheepish, "I do… While your father mostly interacted with Minerva until he graduated and joined a little group I was running, I was rather fond of your mother. I was instrumental in securing your anonymity during the early days of the war. When the news about her marriage contract came out, I searched tirelessly for a way to break it. Watching her fall into the darkness thanks to the control of that contract is something I still consider a personal failing. I'm… I'm sorry, Atlas."
I was too shocked by this revelation to feel much else at the moment, "Maybe you should be telling her that yourself, Albus."
"Haaa… Yes, I suppose I am much too old to be hiding from my failings."
Once again, we fell into silence. I was too busy trying to process this information to think about anything else. Dumbledore was surely lingering on past mistakes. Tonks must have felt like a third wheel in the worst of ways.
Eventually, Dumbledore removed his glasses to clean with a wave of a weary hand and moved the subject of the conversation along to something else, "You've given me much to think about. Both of you. In return, I would like to leave you with an issue I've been having. I believe I am too close to the problem to accurately see the truth.
"Tell me, Atlas, what is your opinion of our latest DADA Professor?"
I blinked, not expecting the conversation to go in this direction, "He's… fine? I haven't really given him much thought. He seems to know his stuff from the few times I've taught alongside him. A bit direct and crude in his delivery though. But I guess that's to be expected from someone without a background in children's education. Why do you ask?"
"Something about him seems off these days. It vexes me and I cannot figure out why," Dumbledore said, furrowing his brow in frustration. "Alastor and I are old friends. We worked together extensively during the last war. Yet, some of the little habits I'd barely noticed from him seem to have disappeared all of a sudden. It's to the point that I almost believe I'm imagining the difference."
Tonks cut in, shrugging, "I can't say I've noticed much different about the old man. He was just my Auror mentor so I can't claim to know him as well as you. But he seems about normal. Maybe a little more paranoid than usual — which is saying something for Moody — but he was attacked in his home at the beginning of the school year."
Dumbledore nodded, "That's why I'm seeking the perspective of someone who is more removed from the situation. Someone without a prior relationship with Alastor may notice something we take for granted or dismiss out of familiarity."
"I couldn't say," I admitted before following up with a suggestion. "But I think you are going about this the wrong way. I wouldn't know Moody's habits to tell you if they were off or odd. Instead, I think you should be consulting others with prior relationships with him specifically. You'll still get additional perspectives but they will be able to more accurately identify anything out of the norm."
Shaking his head self-deprecatively, Dumbledore said, "Yes, I suppose it was rather silly to ask your opinion on a topic like this. I feel like I've hit a wall with this problem but your advice is sound. I'll try asking Minerva and Severus the same question. Perhaps they will have noticed something that I didn't and I, something that they didn't. Thank you, Atlas."
"Happy to help. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have to get to class."
"Of course, of course," Dumbledore dismissed me. "Though, perhaps the next time you see your mother, you can tell her that an old man wishes to speak with her again?"
Still conflicted by that revelation, I paused, "… I'll see what I can do."
With that, Tonks and I left the Headmaster's office to go about our day. I was scheduled to help Professor McGonagall with Fifth Year Transfiguration lessons and we made it just in time to not be counted late. Though late as a Professor may as well have been subjective, Professor McGonagall didn't see it that way.
My mind lingered on other things throughout that lesson and the ones that followed. Dumbledore knew about my ignoble origins and he had known about them for the entirety of my life. I couldn't really blame him for not telling me sooner. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't have believed him.
That revelation did put some things into perspective though. Especially some of his comments in my initial interview for the Assistant Professor position. He knew he'd see me in the Wizengamot because he knew I was secretly a Black, even when I didn't know that myself.
It was a monumental lie of omission on his part. But one that I could understand in a way. There were some things you just didn't bring up until the moment was right and you had to. It's not like he could just come out while I was still a student and say "Hey, your mother and father are both criminals and murderers. And they're probably not as guilty as everyone thinks they are. Also, they're related. Congrats on being an illegitimate, criminal, incest baby." Well… he could have. But that didn't really fit his personality as I'd come to know him. Dumbledore could be surprisingly mischievous but he wasn't malicious.
In the downtime between thoughts about my parents and the relationships they cultivated before their lives fell apart, my mind returned to Dumbledore's concern about Professor Moody. Every interaction with the man was replayed in my mind, now put through a fine comb as I tried to see the oddities that Dumbledore unconsciously noticed. Like I thought though, it was a mostly useless endeavor for me. I simply didn't know the man well enough to do more than catalog his most obvious habits.
This almost-fugue of other thoughts continued throughout the day. Thankfully, most of my classes put me in an assisting role so I could simply coast. I'm sure the other Professors noticed that I was preoccupied because they didn't ask too much of me. It took until dinner that evening for something to pull me out of my thoughts.
The thing that roused me wasn't unique. In fact, you could almost say it was routine. Draco Malfoy was a young man I had mixed feelings of. On one hand, he was a very talented student and Wizard, often competing for second place in his year (Hermione unsurprisingly took first more often than not). On the other, he was a thorn in Heather's side and I didn't much like the way he continued to constantly bother my ward.
And this evening was no different. He strode up to the Gryffindor table at dinner, bold as brass and without an ounce of Slytherin cunning. The staff took notice of this, of course. I even saw Professor Snape struggling to keep from physically facepalming in irritation. Still, we all waited to see how this would play out. The young Malfoy usually trod the line between bullying and not and his punishment (if any) had to be appropriate.
"Potter," Draco declared a pompous 'greeting'.
"Malfoy," Heather greeted back nonchalantly, barely looking up from where she was building her plate for dinner.
Looking down his nose at her, Draco said, "I don't suppose you've found a date to the Yule Ball?"
That made Heather pause, "Draco…? Are you about to ask me out? If you are, you should know that the answer is 'no' and I would like to know just what is going through your head for you to even consider that I would say yes."
The firm rejection flustered Draco, "W-What?! No! I'm here to mock you! Mock! Why would I want to go with the Half-Blood golden girl anyway?!"
"I don't know, Draco. Maybe you should be asking yourself that question."
Naturally, this interaction had attracted attention. Not just from the Gryffindor table but the rest of the Houses as well. Amusement and exasperation from the students mirrored the reaction from the staff. Smirks and whispers could be found at every House table and even among the visiting schools. Money grudgingly exchanged hands from Professor Snape to Professor McGonagall. Still, it seemed that this clash between Heather and Draco would be ultimately harmless.
Draco scoffed, trying to play off the rejection like it meant nothing to him, "Whatever. You still don't have a date. And champions are required to take one. So I'll just sit back and laugh as you scramble for one at the last second."
Heather shrugged, "I have a date. It's just not a romantic one. Hermione and I are going together. We've already cleared it with Professor McGonagall. The one we both wanted to go with is already taken for the night."
"Late, Potter? How does it feel to not get everything you want all the time?"
"If you think things always go my way and that I get whatever I want, you don't know me at all, Draco," Heather deadpanned.
That seemed to shut Draco up and Heather returned her attention to her plate to take a bite of her food. Everyone's attention began to drift away from them and the normal flow of dinner resumed. Or, at least, it should have. Barely five minutes later, disaster struck.
It started with a cough. Nothing unusual or even worth acknowledging really. Then another. And another that sounded like a cross between a cough and a choke. The sounds of asphyxiation began to attract attention. Then the retching began and Heather collapsed out of her seat.
Shock fell over the Great Hall as the Girl-Who-Lived choked and dry-heaved in front of everyone. Panic didn't even get a chance to step in. I'd already hopped the staff table and was by Heather's side in moments. The school's Healer — Poppy Pomfrey — wasn't far behind.
Not being able to do anything was torture but I didn't want to take any chances with a qualified Healer only seconds away. Hermione joined me on her knees beside Heather. Heather coughed and choked as if she was trying to expel her stomach through her mouth.
Madam Pomfrey instantly went to work, commenting with the calm exasperation of a professional as she did, "Merlin, Miss Potter. It's always something with you."
I recognized a couple of her spells. One cleared her airway. Another froze her diaphragm. Yet another was a specialized healing spell that vanished the contents of Heather's stomach without harming her by vanishing everything.
Under Madam Pomfrey's care, Heather almost immediately stopped coughing and choking. She lay there, tired and partially immobilized by her seizure, and Madam Pomfrey soon had her fit as a fiddle. Only once she was clearly safe did the healing Matron try to diagnose the cause of all of this.
She spoke aloud as she did, "Hmm, not a blockage. Not a fit or a true seizure. Not a-… Good Lord, Heather! What did you swallow?!"
"J-Just dinner," Heather rasped in a hoarse voice.
"What did you find, Poppy?" I asked, my voice hard and almost demanding.
"She's just about been poisoned. I can hardly even recognize what the poison is supposed to be though," She explained, practically gaping at the output of her diagnostic spell as she did.
Thankfully, an expert on poisons and potions soon made himself known. Dumbledore and Professor Snape were the next two people to appear at our side.
"Severus? If you would," Dumbledore requested with a veiled order.
Snape sighed, "Duty calls."
He cast the same spell that Madam Pomfrey did, humming to himself, "Well, that is almost criminal."
At the expectant looks he received, Snape continued, "Amortentia, I believe. But the culprit messed up the creation process so much that it is entirely toxic. This work wouldn't even receive a Troll."
Hermione reacted first, gasping, "Someone tried to love potion Heather?!"
"Indeed. Perhaps it would be a good idea to employ various detection spells from now on. Now that this has happened, I am honestly surprised it is the first time."
My expression must have been murderous, "Yeah, she won't be touching any food or drink without it being checked at least twice. I'll teach her the necessary spells but I'll do it myself if I have to."
"W-Who-… *cough* did it…?" Heather asked.
"We can't say," Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly.
"But I'll be damn sure to find out," I added, the assertion backed by steel and fury.
"They have to still be nearby, right? No one's left the Great Hall yet?" Hermione whispered, suddenly conscious of the fact that everyone was watching us.
"Who do you have in mind?"
"Draco…?" Hermione said, not quite sure of her accusation but just throwing it out there. "He did just come to mock Heather about not having a date. What if he used it as a distraction to have the potion slipped into her food?"
Snape scoffed, "Do not let your little schoolyard feud cloud your mind with bias. Despite his seeming failure at employing the cunning of a Slytherin, my Godson is not foolish or brash enough to attempt Line Theft. Also, if he even brewed something as poor quality as that attempted Amortentia, I would see him disowned."
"Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere?" Dumbledore suggested, making the rest of us take notice that every student nearby was leaning toward us to eavesdrop.
Madam Pomfrey agreed, "That would be for the best. I want to put Miss Potter under observation for the rest of the night in case her symptoms return."
"Oh, joy…" Heather croaked.
"Atlas? As Heather's temporary guardian, I would like you to go with her. I think I will be making a statement about this event," Dumbledore requested. He was smiling but the expression died when it reached his eyes.
A couple of students physically recoiled when he turned that expression to address the Great Hall, "This is a terrible addition to our evening. For those who were not close enough to eavesdrop, another attempt has been made on Heather Potter's life. And not just murder, possibly attempted Line Theft as well-…"
The rest of us exited the Great Hall as gasps of shock filled it. Madam Pomfrey led the way while Hermione and I helped support Heather. Tonks resumed her duty as my shadow as well, having stuck close through the chaos in her student disguise.
"Line Theft?" Hermione asked Tonks as we walked.
Tonks' face could have been carved from stone, "Yeah, it's probably worse than the attempted murder for a lot of Pure-Bloods. Since it was Amortentia, a case can be made that whoever did the poisoning was trying to get Heather to fall in love with them so they could take over House Potter."
"House Potter? Is that what all those letters from Gringotts are about?" Heather wondered aloud. "Huh, didn't think it was that big a deal. I just thought it was like car insurance or something. They've been trying to reach Vernon about his extended warranty for ages now."
"Heather, have you been ignoring your mail?!" For some reason, that thought set Hermione off. I think she was just trying to find something to channel her fear and frustration into.
Heather shrugged, "It's all just account statements. Nothing urgent."
"Still…"
"We can deal with that together at some point," I offered. "Lord knows I'll have to set my accounts straight with all the revelations as of late. And maybe your parents left you something in their vaults."
"Yeah?" Heather grew noticeably more excited with that possibility. "Yeah! When can we go?"
"Not tonight. That's for sure," Madam Pomfrey cut in.
"I'll see about getting permission for us to visit the Alley," I promised.
Heather's thankful smile was enough of a reward for me already. It was good to see her smile despite the events of tonight. It meant, despite how terrified and angry I was inside. Despite how much I wanted to find the person who did this and simply vent and punish them. Despite how scary it was to see my student, my ward, my friend almost struck down at an ordinary dinner like it was nothing. Despite everything, I could try to smile too.
IIIII
Later that night, two identical ghosts of the redheaded variety crept through the Gryffindor Fourth Year dorms. They stopped at a very specific bed with a very specific snoring inhabitant and directed their attention to the trunk associated with both. They had it open in seconds like magic.
The redheaded 'ghosts' whispered to each other as they searched the trunk, "I do very much hope you're mistaken, brother."
"As do I, brother. But just to be sure."
"It does seem to have his name written all over it."
"In green ink, no less."
"Let's just hope he's not too far gone."
"He's always been too far gone. Let's just hope the rest of the family won't be dragged down with him."
The pair fell silent as they unearthed something worse than what they'd feared from the clutter within the trunk. A poorly crafted doll stared back at them with vivid green eyes beneath black hair. The resemblance was obvious and though unfinished, the implication behind the doll was deeply concerning.
"Where'd he even learn about-…"
"I don't want to know."
"I don't think mom's howlers are going to be enough to set our unfortunate brother straight."
"Think we should call in the cavalry?"
The pair looked at each other and nodded in sync, "Dad…"
AN: Just a quick note on the Moody situation. Dumbledore doesn't suspect an imposter or anything like that yet. He thinks that something is wrong but he suspects something more like depression or psychosis or even just more paranoia than normal.
Barty Crouch Jnr is canonically a damn good actor. He has to be to not be found out instantly by Dumbledore. So while Dumbledore suspects something, he's come to the wrong conclusion.
As he says, he's too close to the issue. At the moment, he's just confiding in his young friends (Atlas and Tonks) for a different perspective than his own. The real kicker would come if Snape started paying attention to how often Imposter Moody takes a pull from that pesky flask of his.
Really though, this is just the start of 'the Hunt of Imposter Moody'. It's the setup and foreshadowing for the last act of the story. Plenty of stuff will happen between now and then but I wanted to establish this suspicion so that it sits in the back of Atlas' mind. Think of it as a slow-burn detective story in the background. Except not really because I'm pants at writing mysteries (especially when everyone already knows the twist like in this case).