Not too long after Harry and the others entered the common room, a squad of aurors came in. The lead auror, grim-faced, with black hair and a no-nonsense attitude, quickly took control. “Alright, everyone,” he said loudly, “Listen up! I want everyone who was not in the Great Hall to go over beside the door to the boys’ side of the tower.
Harry had learned that the students not in the Great Hall had been popped to the Common Room by the house-elves as soon as all the wounded students had been moved to the Hospital Wing. The house-elves had told them to tell everyone else that the Castle was on lockdown and everyone had to remain in the Tower until further notice.
It wasn’t a very large group, consisting primarily of fifth, sixth, and seventh-year boys, with a scattering of a few girls.
You,” the auror pointed at one of the Prefects, “go up and make sure everyone is down here.”
The Prefect nodded and started up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.
He pointed at one of the girl Prefects. “You do the same for the girls’ side.”
She immediately headed up the stairs, but not at the pace the boy had taken.
“Next, everyone who was seated in the desks in the Great Hall, and anyone who thinks they were close enough in the first rows of chairs to get a good look at what happened, go over to the fireplace!” This was a larger group comprising primarily of all the second-year students and a fair number of first-year’s. Harry noted that most of the first-years joining the group were ponies. No doubt the Pegasi would have had the best view given the leak-over of superior vision into humans that that gave them.
The auror looked around the room. “Everyone else, go over there,” and he pointed to area to the left of the Common Room entrance. That was, by far, the largest group.
The aurors quickly split up and went to the different groups. Five went to the last, one to the first, and two to Harry’s group. Based on the numbers, it made sense. Interviewing the first group would take only a few minutes per person to ascertain that they really hadn’t been in the Great Hall. The last group would take more time to weed out those who could contribute something useful from those who couldn’t. The information they might provide, however, was slight compared to the students who had been closest.
Harry and Hermione, having been on the stage, were the first two picked out to be interviewed by their assigned aurors. They had been closest, and had seen everything that had happened on the stage, after all. And on-stage had been where all the action had been.
They were standing slightly to the side of the rest of the group when the aurors came over to them. The one who singled out Harry was a large, bronze-skinned man, well-proportioned, and had bronze-hair with an exaggerated widow’s peak. “Hello,” he said, walking up to them. It was only as he came close that Harry realized he was tall, easily taller than Mr. Weasley. However, he moved lightly on his feet, as if he could move in any direction at an instant’s notice.
“I’m Auror Savage.” He had brown eyes were flecked with gold that drew Harry’s attention, but he found he had difficulty looking into them for very long.
The two students both nodded and murmured, “Hello,” in turn, a bit intimidated by the aurors. Adults were scary enough with having the authority of the Ministry behind them, too.
“So, you two were on the stage with Professor Lockhart, right?”
They nodded again.
“Alright, then,” he said looking back and forth between them. “Let’s start with you, right lad?” He gestured over to two armchairs under a window of the Common Room. Harry nodded uneasily and headed for the indicated corner. Hermione and the other auror were headed to a spot only slightly distant from where Harry would be.
The auror pushed one armchair and shifted a second so they faced one another. “Make yourself comfortable,” the man said, then lifted his wand and made a few short gestures. “There now,” he said in a satisfied tone, “We’re all blurry to everyone else so they can’t see our expressions or read our lips. Plus, while we can hear them, they can’t hear us.” He settled into his chair and looked Harry over. “We don't want to be distracted by other conversations, do we.”
Harry nodded hesitantly. He didn’t have a lot of trust in the Ministry or its employees.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small clear crystal and attached it to his robes, just over the centre of his chest. “First things first,” he said briskly. “This is an official recording of a first interview. I am Auror Clark Savage, Junior. I am at Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor Common Room, and I am interviewing . . .,” He paused and looked at Harry, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.
Harry nodded nervously, staring at the crystal. “Uh, Harry James Potter-Sparkle.”
The Auror lifted one eyebrow, but said nothing about who he was interviewing. “The current time is,” he looked over his shoulder at the clock over the Common Room fireplace, “ten oh four in the morning on Saturday, May First, Nineteen Ninety-three.” He turned back to Harry. “Mr. Potter, you were present during the incident today in the Great Hall, is that correct?”
Harry nodded.
At the Auror’s tilting his head and glancing downwards at the crystal on his chest, Harry, understood the unspoken request. “Uh, yes I was.”
Savage nodded genially. “Excellent. I would like you to tell me, in your own words, what you saw happen. Start with, oh, say, the moment you walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, and who was with you at that time?”
With the auror’s gentle coaxing, Harry managed to describe his morning. Oddly, the man asked Harry what he had had for breakfast, and if he had received any mail, as well as who and where everyone around him was seated.
Somewhere along the line, he had started making notes on notepad Harry hadn’t previously noticed.
“Was there a reason why you kept looking over at Misters Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in particular?” He shifted slightly in his chair. “I mean, I know there’s a bit of bad feelings between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but why those three in particular?”
Harry chewed his lower lip for a moment. “Draco, with his girlfriend Parkinson, and Goyle and Crabbe, are always coming over and pestering us.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. The auror waited patiently. Harry sighed. “Elly de Rippe . . . in Hufflepuff . . . she told me she thought Goyle was up to something, that Malfoy wasn’t directing it, but was involved a bit. Back at the end of Spring Break when we first got back.”
“And why would she do that?” he asked in a reasonable tone.
Harry shrugged. “She did save my life last year when she thought something was wrong during our Defence Against the Dark Arts practical test, and she said she had the same feeling this time, only about Goyle.”
He gave Harry a puzzled look, as if he didn’t understand or didn’t believe what Harry had said. Finally, he said, “And what feeling was that?”
“Well, last year, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was possessed by . . . an evil spirit.” Harry knew he shouldn’t mention Voldemort. Everyone else thought the wizard was dead. If Harry said Voldemort had been still around as a spirit, no one would believe him — plus, they’d discount anything else he might say as just the fanciful imaginings of a child.
As usual adults never believed children.
It was adults who weren’t to be trusted.
“He kidnapped me and tried to kill me. She said that something about Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle was giving her the same feelings that that professor had given her, but more Goyle than the other two. So, yeah, I listened.”
He looked up at the man and narrowed his eyes.
“I’ve learned to listen to feelings like that.”
The auror slowly nodded and looked thoughtful for several moments. “Sounds like that would be quite the story. Too bad we don’t have the time to hear it right now.” He sighed. “So,” Savage finally said, “What happened next?”
Harry led him through Lockhart selecting students to come to the stage, the spells he had cast, and the final spell that had triggered the debacle.
They went over that last bit several times as the auror tried to get Harry to remember any details he might missed mentioning, or to clarify something. Such as, who was standing where, how they reacted or didn’t react, or details he might not have realized he had seen until prompted more closely. His missing a detail didn’t happen often, but it did happen, Harry had to admit.
By the time they finished, it was coming up on lunch time. Harry felt as if he had been squeezed dry by one of Applejack’s apple presses that she used to squeeze the juice from apples.
The only part Harry had fudged was not mentioning his teleport. Instead, he claimed he had pulled Hermione with him as he jumped off the stage to his friends.
He was very careful not to mention the word “herd.” He was sure the wizard wouldn’t understand, and if he did, he would make fun of Harry and the girls.
“Well, Mr. Potter,” the wizard said, looking up at the clock over the fireplace. “I believe that concludes this interview. I thank you for your cooperation, today, and the details you were able to remember. They will be very helpful to us in wrapping this up. The current time is,” and he again looked over his shoulder, “Eleven forty-five in the morning on Saturday, May First, Nineteen Ninety-three.” He turned back to Harry and grinned as he tapped the crystal on his chest with his wand.
He leaned forward slightly, and held out his hand.
Harry gingerly reached out and took it.
Shaking their hands, Savage said, “Again, thank you for helping us.” He dropped Harry’s hand and stood up. His notepad had disappeared. “You have quite the memory for details.”
Harry shrugged, getting to his feet. “That’s nothing,” he said disparagingly. “Hermione has a phenomenal memory.”
“Really, now,” the auror gave him an intrigued look.
They walked over to where his friends were sitting.
Hermione was still talking with her auror, based on her gesticulations.
He sat with his friends. He saw that the other aurors had made quite a bit of progress. The group of students who hadn’t been in the Great Hall had all been interviewed, he saw, as none were left in their section of the room. At six at a time, the last group was almost completely finished at this point. Several were being dismissed as he watched. From the looks of it, the third group would be finished just in time for lunch.
It appeared that the students were heading up to their rooms after their interviews, because the room was far less crowded than it had been.
Savage smiled at the remaining second and first-years. “The house-elves will be bringing lunch in shortly, so why don’t you all have lunch first? Hmm? We’ll resume the interviewing after that. Once we finish with the second group, things will go much faster for your group.” He looked at them with raised eyebrows. They all nodded back.
He turned to Harry. “Please don’t discuss anything you told me with anyone else. You might accidentally colour what they think they remember with your observations.”
Harry nodded and said, “Yes, sir,” as his girlfriends all pouted a bit at being denied the opportunity to grill him on what he and the auror had discussed.
The wizard looked over at his companions, and looked at the remaining Gryffindor students who had stayed for Lockharts “special” class students. He walked over to the students, and waved one to join him for an interview.
As Harry had suspected, it took a surprisingly short amount of time to finish that group.
The last interview was just starting when Hermione finished her interview, and the two came back over.
The auror just looked at them a moment, then repeated what Savage had said. “We’ll start your interviews after lunch.”
Just minutes later, food started appearing on the various tables in the room. Two prefects started up the stairs, a boy and a girl, to alert the ones who had finished their interviews that food was available.
It sounded like a herd of elephants charging down the stairs as each floor received the news. Everyone moved to satisfy the hunger that had crept up on them. Harry realized he was ravenous, much more so than normal. He must have used a considerable amount of energy casting his shields.
Just as the house-elves started bringing in the food, the Common Room door opened and Harry’s mum stepped through, with several aurors.
“. . . well you told me to put a bit of power into it, so I did,” she said to one of the aurors behind her.
Harry snickered. Knowing her, whatever she had cast had probably shocked everyone else.
Harry had expected her to show up sooner, as soon as she got the notice of the spell-fight and damage, actually. Apparently, she had been waylaid on her way to the Gryffindor Tower.
She spotted him almost immediately and rushed right over, pulling him into a hug, which he happily reciprocated. That was the best thing about the human form, as far as he was concerned — hugs. Not that pony hugs were anything shabby.
As soon as she let him go, he asked, “And what did you overpower, this time?”
She looked embarrassed. “Well, after Bon Bon sent me the alert, and told me that you were unharmed and safe, I went to St. Mungo’s. Bon Bon had also said they had sent a large number of the injured students there, and that the healers probably were overwhelmed, so I thought I’d help. They were overwhelmed, and there was this one child with a broken hip. The healer said I should use a bone-healing spell, but since I didn’t know that one, I used a general-purpose healing spell that the doctors at Canterlot use.” She sighed. “But the magic here is so much less, so I overpowered it as much as possible.” She stopped.
The auror behind her dryly said. “She fixed practically every broken bone, bruise, cut, and scrape anyone in the hospital had — all at the same time.”
His mum was blushing.
“I heard one of the nurses saying she emptied out half the hospital at one go,” put in another.
“Then, on the way here from the Hospital Wing floo, we passed the Great Hall, and she took a whack at that, too,” added a third.
The fourth auror shook his head. “We were only about half done when she came in and cast a reparo that makes the Great Hall look like it was just built.”
She rolled her eyes, “I just used the same spell I do when Discord messes with things, the one that restores everything to how it was before whatever he had done.”
Harry and the fillies grinned. “Yeah,” he said, hugging her a second time, “That’s my mum.”
The rest of the room was staring at them in disbelief.
“So,” she said, holding him at arms-length and giving him a good looking over. “What happened?”
He glanced over at the aurors, who were now in a group over in a corner, eating. “I’m not supposed to talk with anyone that they haven’t interviewed, yet.” He nodded his head at the fillies and girls.
His mum slowly nodded, looking around. “Yes, she said, “That makes sense.” She concentrated for a moment. “Okay,” she said pulling out her wand. Seconds later she had a small vial in her hand. “Now, then,” she started, “I’m going to make a copy of your memory so I can look at it in my pensieve. I want you to think of this morning, when Professor Lockhart started his lecture and go right through to the attack and what happened after that, okay? Concentrate on it and try to remember as much detail as you can.
Harry nodded, remembering the things he had seen in the pensieve in Equestria. He closed his eyes and started thinking of when Lockhart had first stood up.
However, they were interrupted. Auror Savage came over and said, “Oh, are you retrieving his memory of the incident? Could we possibly have a copy? It would make things much easier for us to have more than just the three memories from Professors’ McGonagall, Flitwick and Madam Bones of what happened.” He looked at her apologetically. “We’re not allowed to collect memories from children, but if their parent or Guardian does it, it’s okay.”
Harry had read up on that last summer. Many parents didn’t trust the Ministry to not trick the children into revealing family secrets. Plus, some parents, in the past, had claimed the aurors had hurt their child and demanded rather large sums as compensation.
Twilight looked at the auror and nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that,” she said, “Do you have a memory vial?”
He grinned. “Always,” he said and pulled a crystal vial out of his pocket.
Harry frowned. He did not want them to know he had teleported. His mum was fine, but they were wizards, and adults. He frowned, thinking how he could accomplish this. Finally, he looked at his mum, nodded, and closed his eyes again, concentrating.
Abruptly, it was as if he were watching a movie taken through his eyes, every detail was crystal clear. It started as he wanted, when Lockhart stood up. He ended it just as he grabbed Hermione’s hand and prepared to teleport.
Everything important was there, but none of his secrets.
He watched, fascinated as his mum lowered the long string of silvery thread into her vial, then pulled a duplicate out and dropped it into Savage’s vial.
The auror thanked her, again, and headed for the exit. He, no doubt, wanted to get that memory to his superiors as soon as possible.
After he had walked away, Harry said, “I have another memory for you, but let’s do that one where the aurors won’t see.”
His mum gave him a frowning look, but nodded her agreement.
He chewed his lip for a moment, then said, “Let’s go to my dorm room.”
The entire group made their way up the stairs, fascinated at the magic being used.
It was only a few moments to give her the rest of his memory of what had happened, and to add the memory of Elly giving them a warning immediately after Break.
His mum sighed, and looked at Harry sadly. “I need to see these as soon as possible,” she said, holding up the memory vial. “So, I can’t join you for lunch.”
He nodded. “I figured as much,” he said, disappointed, but resigned to the fact.
She hugged him again, joined by the other girls. Ron and Neville watched, uncomfortable at the display of affection.
They trooped back downstairs.
“I’m going to examine these memories,” his mum said to the aurors as she headed for the Common Room’s exit.
They nodded and waved.
Harry and his friends headed for the food laden tables, and started on their lunch. It was a strain, but they managed not to discuss what had happened in the Great Hall. It was difficult, unfortunately. The other students, the vast majority, now, who had been interviewed, wouldn’t shut up. Most didn’t even try to keep their voices low. Harry and the girls ended up casting a sound-muffling shield around the table they had staked out as their luncheon counter.
What they talked about, once they could ignore the other Gryffindors, was just what his mum had done in “restoring” the Great Hall. Based on the aurors’ reactions, it ought to be interesting. The first part of the afternoon Harry watched his friends get interviewed. Hermione spent it book-walking. That probably would have been a good idea, but Harry found himself unable to concentrate on reading. He just kept running the attack back and forth through his mind.
If Goyle hadn’t been possessed, why would he have attacked the professor? It would have been senseless and stupid. Therefore, he had been possessed, and ready to react the moment he was detected.
Goyle had shown an incredible increase in both his ability to cast magic. He had never been anywhere but at the bottom of the class. Even this year, he had hovered at barely acceptable grades in charms, DADA, and transfigurations. His actual spells were okay, but only nothing to brag about — definitely only a bit about average. Plus, it always took him a long time to master them.
But this morning . . . his spell casting had been powerful, fast, and accurate. He had cast his knock-back, and then immediately cast a cutting spell of some sort at Harry. It had been more than enough to remove an arm or leg if it had hit him. Considering his father’s reputation as a former Death Eater, whatever that spell had been, it would have been dark enough that no potion or spell would be able to reattach anything it cut off.
Then, even before the spell had reached Harry, or Lockhart had hit the other professors, he had started spewing smoke from his wand, to hide his escape.
The only question Harry had at this point was, by whom or what? A vampire rarely depended on casting spells from a wand. And that sort of long-range possession couldn’t allow for such sure control of the host.
In any case, why would a vampire attack him?
He hadn’t seen any signs of it this year, but Harry slowly came to the conclusion that somehow Goyle had come into having Tom Riddle’s diary. It was the only solution to the problem that made sense. It would certainly explain why he had attacked Harry. Harry had vanquished his progenitor, hadn’t he?
He kept worrying at the issue, trying to see where he could be wrong in his supposition. But it held together quite well. Especially considering what Elly had told him of her observations, and assumptions.
Meanwhile, his other friends, having been further away from the action, took much less time to give their interviews. With several aurors working, the rest of the second and first-year classes was quickly dealt with and everyone was finished by mid-afternoon. The aurors declared that they were done, thanked the students, and left.
Only after they left did Harry share his theory about what had really happened with his friends, and who was responsible. After listening closely to his reasoning, none of them, not even Hermione, could really discount it.
Hermione concluded they should have realized it was Voldemort back when Elly told them. Only their naïveté as children had allowed them to lose their focus.
That was when his mum dropped by a second time. She gave him a huge hug. “I can’t stay for long, dear, I have some research to conduct.” She shivered and her eyes had a bright, happy quality to them. He pressed his lips together and gave a small smile. Research. The only thing that truly made his mum happy — besides him, Spike, and her friends.
She hurried back out.
Then the girls insisted they all needed to take showers. Which made sense. They were still coated with dust from the morning, after all.
Drying off afterwards, Harry had to admit that the shower had been a good idea. He felt much better after watching the grime and dirt spiral into the drain in the floor.
He met with the others back in the Common Room, only to be told by the Prefects, a few minutes later, that dinner would be in half-hour, and that attendance was mandatory.
Entering the Great Hall was a surreal experience. Remembering the destruction they had last seen, and now seeing the Hall as if it had never happened, almost made Harry question if he had dreamt the whole thing. Only his friends being equally amazed showed he hadn’t imagined it.
The aurors had been right. The Hall looked cleaner and brighter than he ever had seen it. He hadn’t realized that the dark tone to the floor was from centuries of inground dirt. The same was true for the walls, which practically gleamed under the torches lining them. Even the tables and benches looked and felt new, with shaper edges and clearer grain.
Not seeing the afternoon sky overhead had been disappointing. Whatever enchantments that had been on the ceiling either had not yet been renewed or had been destroyed by the damage done by the bombardos.
Somewhat reassuring, all the Professors, including Lockhart, were in evidence. Dumbledore was nodding and smiling. Lockhart looked pale and withdrawn.
As soon as the last few students came in and were seated, Dumbledore stood. “I have a few words,” he said in his old, kindly voice.
Harry immediately felt his back-hairs go up.
“First, let me reassure you all that there were no permanent injuries suffered by anyone in this morning's regrettable incident. In fact,” He looked around the room with a gentle smile, “I can confidently say that everyone who was injured will make a full recovery. Madam Pomfrey's skills were on full display, and I thank her for her dedication and attention to detail in preventing any lapses.” He turned slightly and bowed to the Hospital Wing Matron. When straightened, he clapped his hands lightly, several times, creating by example a tremendous applause from the students.
“Sadly,” he continued, “We are missing three students. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Crabbe are currently at St. Mungo’s undergoing evaluation. It seems that they were under a compulsion this morning, and were not in control of themselves. Mr. Goyle is missing, and has apparently fled Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.”
He paused a moment and peered over his glasses at the students. “Unfortunately, he has not gone home. His parents are extremely worried for him, as am I. If any of you have a suggestion as to where he might have gone, please confide in your Head of House, or a Prefect. We shall not disclose the identity of anyone who does so.”
He paused and gave the students another long glance.
“There has been speculation that a vampire was controlling the boy. However, I can unequivocally say that there hasn’t been a vampire on Hogwarts’ grounds in the last ten years. It isn’t impossible that he was under the thrall of a vampire, but the creature was not close enough to exert any control over him. Why he acted the way he did is a mystery.” He shook his head sadly. “Which is another reason why we would like to find and talk with him.”
He sighed, obviously unhappy at the next part of his announcements. “Please ignore the aurors you will be seeing at Hogwarts over the next few days. Do not bother them. If they stop you and ask any questions, answer as completely as you can.”
He paused again, and smiled. “On a lighter note, the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor Quidditch game has been rescheduled for next Saturday.”
This announcement was met with more than a few cheers from both the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables — most notably, from the team players and their most ardent fans.
He stopped and raised both arms, outstretched as if to give a benediction. “And that concludes my announcements for this evening. Enjoy your repast!”
Food immediately appeared on the tables, and everyone dug in.
^·_·^
Curious about the big boxy thing that took up a corner of the room, Tom examined it carefully not too long after settling into the room.
The folded newspaper, only the part labelled “Entertainment” on top, had five columns in it. It listed BBC1, BBC2, ITV, Channel 4, and Channel 5. The descriptions read somewhat like the listings that he used to see in the orphanage for the radio plays. Just like the old radio, most of the shows sounded vapid and absurd. However, he expected the old standard, BBC News to be a rich source of what was happening in this modern world.
Pity it would be a few hours before he got to it.
The remote control on top was rather obvious, and hitting the “on” button was revolutionary.
He could only stare in shock as the morning programs played out
He kept just flipping channels. He’d stay on a channel for a quarter of an hour or so, then move on. Most of the stuff, except the children’s programming, was dreck unsuitable for wrapping fish if it had been in print. He could feel his brain rotting just watching some of the “entertainment.”
On the other hand, it was an invaluable resource for seeing how far the muggles had advanced in the last fifty years. Instant communication via telephone was so common, its absence was noticed more. Travel across the oceans in a few hours by flying instead of the weeks’ sea-ships used. As long as he eschewed magic, he could travel anywhere in the world as a muggle. It might take him longer, but the bureaucratic hurdles he would have to clear were nearly non-existent, by comparison. Especially if he wanted to escape notice by the magical authorities.
He could take a flight from here in London direct to Paris or Berlin, if he wanted, saving hours of travel time. With the quid he had had converted at Gringotts, he didn’t have to be a miser.
And cars! When he had been at Hogwarts, only the rich could afford a car, everyone else took the train or bus. Now, there were almost as many cars as people. Maybe more, if what he saw was accurate. And it had to be accurate or the viewers would have objected.
The TV was a remarkable window into the world.
He absentmindedly ate Goyle’s lunch.
Then the news program came on.
This was so far above radio that he couldn’t believe the difference.
It covered the world, with live pictures of events happening in real time.
Europe, yeah, he could understand. But, coverage of a bomb attack in Sri Lanka? With pictures? Cricket Test Scores, showing the actual match’s best moments? The maps of the expected weather for the country and part of the continent?
The difference between hearing a written report of the expected weather and seeing it play out across a map was . . . astonishing.
The wizards had nothing like this!
Tom left the TV running in the background as he executed his scheme for Goyle’s lifeless body. It had gone much quicker than he had expected. Draining the boy’s magic so deeply had been a tremendous help. The boy finally stopped breathing not too much after the news program ended. He made sure to place the body as if it had been callously discarded at the side of the bed.
He spent the rest of the afternoon, evening, and until late at night, perusing the channels.
This world of the muggles was fascinating in a way that 1945 had never been. Maybe they weren’t as useless as he had thought.
^·_·^