Chapter 3

Author's note: I own nothing, and just happen to have the habit of borrowing characters and playing around with them.

As to why the world is the way it is in this story, please c/f to author's note in chapter 1.

Description of murder(s) and politics herein may be gory and unpalatable to readers. If blood and gore offends you, and if depictions of any kind of non-western or non-modern-democratic government offends you, this story and the original AU murder mystery on which it are based are not for you. I do not say this to alienate my readers. I am merely giving fair warning.

Politics of Academic Murder

Chapter 3

As Filch had just lost his employer, he was understandably distraught. As with most distraught men in mourning, Filch was drowning his sorrows in drink. After a few discreet enquiries, our former Unspeakable Unspeakables found Argus Filch in a pub named the Dodgy Monkey. The Dodgy Monkey, tucked into a nondescript corner of Cambridgeshire, directly outside the University of Cambridge, attracted a unique clientele of mainly squibs, criminal elements of wizarding society, as well as down-and-out members of wizarding society. Though the area was not gloomy as the Discedes, Alkane and Morosia areas of wizarding London, it was sufficiently grimy to disconcert Hermione who was clinging onto Severus's arm for dear life. Whether it was because she feared the buildings leaning on each other would collapse on her, or whether it was because she feared being separated from him in a place she rather not patronise, he did not know. He allowed her to do as she chose so long as she remained silent and even ventured to pat her hand once or twice.

'Why do our witnesses always frequent such establishments?' Hermione groaned, tightening her grip on the arm of her companion.

Deeming that question to be a rhetorical one, he did not answer. Instead, he nodded grimly at her in what could best be described as an encouraging manner and exerted all his willpower not to pry her digits from their perch. He settled instead for patting her hand again. The interior of the pub was thankfully not as noisome and bleak as its exterior. It would have presented a pleasant aura if not for all the eyes trained on them as they entered.

'Filch,' greeted Severus smoothly, ignoring the stares in his direction. 'May I buy you a drink?'

'What do you want?' snapped Filch, his foetid breath making Hermione wrinkle her nose.

She glared at her colleague's tactics and clicked her tongue in disapproval. He gave her an eloquent shrug and indicated with a jerk of his head that she should have a go to try her luck. She did not need to be told twice. Casting a sympathetic smile at their witness, she sat next to him and offered her condolences. 'I am so sorry for your loss, Mr Filch. I know you were very attached to Professor Dumbledore.'

He snorted at her, and rubbed his nose on his sleeve.

'We, that is, Professor Snape and I, heard that you found Professor Dumbledore three days ago. I am sorry that you found him in such a state. Like you, we feel his loss keenly,' she murmured with a look of deep grief etched on her features.

Severus, who did not know his colleague to be so proficient in the arts of dissembling, raised a faint brow of approval at her methods and tried his best not to smirk. He knew only painfully well how his esteemed colleague truly viewed Dumbledore. In fact, he shared her sentiments that he was a presumptuous, overbearing arse who meddled in everything – even in things that were none of his business. It was not good ton to speak ill of the dead, that much he knew. His mother had brought him up to have a modicum of propriety, so he reminded himself that Dumbledore – his sometime emotional blackmailer, had a knack for looking for the best in people. There, that was charitable enough.

'Too right, Missy,' answered the squib in a shaky voice brimming with emotion. 'He gave me a place in a world. He didn't cast me out. He was good to me. Merlin knows what will happen to me and Snape here if he didn't take us in.'

'Please,' protested Severus with a heavy scowl. 'You make us sound like stray kittens.'

'Easy for you to say,' hollered Filch, slamming his mug of ale down on the table violently. 'You're established now with your fancy Cambridge Fellowship. What about me, I ask you? You know how people like me are looked upon in society.'

Hermione and Severus exchanged intelligible glances. Oh yes, they knew how the Potter administration viewed squibs. Although the reprehensible policy of a pure-blooded wizarding Britain of the Voldemort era had been abolished, there was now a new subtle kind of discrimination in place. Where previously Muggle-borns were weeded out, now the non-functional members of wizarding were targeted. Hermione who had faced the bigotry of the pure-blood campaign (her exceptional ability notwithstanding), and Severus who had experienced the anti-Death Eater campaign at the beginning of the Potter Administration (his loyalty to Dumbledore's cause to overthrow Voldemort notwithstanding) both could readily enter in Filch's feelings of insecurity and fear.

'There, there,' cooed Hermione as she would to a child who had lost his mother at the shopping centre. On handing him a packet of tissue paper so that he could dab his tears, she continued, 'I understand how you feel. Professor Dumbledore was a friend to Professor Snape and to me. Why don't you tell us what you saw, and maybe we will find the person who did such a horrible thing.'

Filch wiped his eyes on the back of hand and blew his nose loudly into a piece of tissue paper.

'Tell us... no, better yet, show us, how and where you discovered his body," Hermione added.

Filch nodded and their party Apparated to Merton College. The manservant and former caretaker of Hogwarts led the way towards the chapel of the wizarding division of the school and past the corridors to Dumbledore's rooms. Outside the door of his former employer, the squib paused.

'Each morning, I came here to rouse and dress Professor Dumbledore,' he began.

Severus scowled heavily in impatience. 'And on that morning? Take us through the events when you found him dead.'

'I came up to the door. It was locked and shut up. That was strange. I knocked and not being able to get any answer, I went to a side window.'

At this revelation, the two former Unspeakeable Unspeakables exchanged an intelligible glance.

'Are you trying to say, man, that you did not possess the key to Dumbledore's chamber?'

'No,' said Filch, nervously wringing his hands. 'There was only one key and Dumbledore always kept it himself.'

Hermione looked straight into Filch's eyes. 'You intimated that it was unusual in the extreme for him to lock his door.'

'So the door was locked!' Severus interjected, tracing his lower lip with a tapered finger in thought. 'You say you went to a window. Was it open?'

Uncertain what to make of that question, Filch looked to Hermione who nodded for him to answer. 'It was closed.'

'Warded?' asked the Alchemy professor in a slight bark.

Filch hesitated, his eyes darting from one investigator to the other. Severus, using the skill he had developed as a spy and double agent, swooped down on him and inched his face close to the caretaker's. That further disconcerted Filch, for he swallowed hard and sputtered, 'I... had to smash the glass to open it and squeeze in.'

'Go on,' encouraged Hermione with a hand on his shoulder and a mighty glare of disapproval at her colleague. 'What did you see inside?'

'I saw him hanging on the beam,' gasped Filch in horror as he recalled the incident.

'Where?' Severus snapped. 'Show us.'

Filch opened the door and conducted them into a spacious chamber which had been Dumbledore's living quarters and study. He pointed up to the rafters at the roof. Great beams of wood at 2.7 metres from the ground crossed the room.

'That one,' said Filch in a strangled voice as he pointed unsteadily at a beam 'The one near the bed. He was hanging from it. a rope was twisted round it and one end was tied in a noose around his neck like the show executions of years ago. I remember thinking he had been dead for and so I went to get Chancellor Flitwick.'

The two investigators looked at each other – one frowned and began pacing the room, the other rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

'Did you search the room?' Severus asked casually.

'My thoughts were to tell the Chancellor the news so that he would get the Aurors.'

Hermione tilted her head up to study the beam where Dumbledore was allegedly hung and spun around to face Filch. 'You said the door was locked. Was the key on the inside?'

The withered old man shook his head slowly as if the oddity of that which had just crossed his mind had suddenly dawned upon him. 'There was no sign of the key. I had to squeeze back out of the window. The wizarding smithy then came and picked the warded lock when Chancellor Flitwick arrived. It was the missing key that confirmed Chancellor Flitwick in his theory that thieves had done the deed, locking Dumbledore in his own room after they had hanged him.'

Severus examined the lock and felt the vibration of magical energy where it had been picked. There was little else to decipher from it, except that the lock had not been forced and the spell on the door had not otherwise been tampered. As he moved to the window, Hermione went to the bed and gazed up. She frowned and called out to him but he was not attending to her. He was preoccupied with examining the broken glass and the scrayaching on the frame which might have been made by a body pushing through the aperture. That much was certainly consistent with Filch's story, so he turned his attention to his colleague. 'What it is, Dr Granger?'

'The beam – there are some scoring on it,' she said simply. On leaving the alchemist to examine it, she directed the following question at Filch, 'Is the bed in the same position?'

'Eh?' croaked the old man. 'Methinks it is.'

She made some mental Arithmantic calculations and nodded to herself. 'Let me get this straight,' she continued, staring unblinkingly at Filch. 'You say that the door was locked and there was no key in the lock on either side of the door? You also say that the window was secured and to gain entry to the room, you had to break in from the outside?'

'Yes,' confirmed the squib.

'What do you make of it, Professor Snape?' she queried, directing her gaze to his thoughtful expression at the beam from which Dumbledore was found to be hanging. 'We know that the wards had not been meddled with, and now there appears to be a locked room mystery on our hands.'

He smirked absently more to himself than her. 'It just means the game is just beginning. It's all about the joseki, as a witch reminded me.'

After a brief harrumph at his opaque comment, Hermione returned to her questioning of Filch. 'Let me put this question to you, as Professor Snape and I have put to Chancellor Flitwick: He forwarded a theory that Professor Dumbledore was disturbed by footpads in the night. He went to the chapel to investigate. They overpowered him, brought him back here, hanged him and then robbed him. Do you see anything amiss with this course of events?'

Filch looked distinctively uncomfortable. 'I don't understand.'

Hermione made a tsk-tsk sound, folded her arms and tapped her foot on the ground in exasperation. 'Come now, Mr Filch. You have been his helper ever since he retired from the Ministry and suffered from ill-health. You helped rise in the morning and had to accompany him on his duties lest he collapses. Would such a frail, old, sickly wizard suddenly jump up from his bed in the dead of the night and trundled off to face marauders? And why would these same marauders bring him back here to hang him? All they would have to was cast some spell on him if they are wizards or knock him unconscious if they were non-magical. They would not have to kill him in this elaborate manner. All they would have to do is render him beyond hindrance to them.'

'That is not for me to say, Dr Granger,' stammered Filch, lowering his eyes to the ground. 'If the Chancellor says so, and the Ministry report by the Great Leader and the Aurory say so, it is not for me to say..."

She cut into his explanation, taking in his flustered expression. 'We know what the Chancellor said. We are also fully aware of what the Ministry thinks. I want to know what you say.'

'It is not for me to question the Ministry's report. The Great Leader wrote it himself. He and the Aurory came to their conclusion after making strenuous inquiries.'

It was Severus's term to be annoyed now and he glided towards Filch, took him firmly by the shoulders and shook him firmly. 'Of whom, other than yourself, could the Ministry make such inquiries?'

'It was Dr Penelope Clearwater of the Charms department who told the Ministry and the Chancellor about the itinerants,' revealed Filch.

'Then bring her here!' hissed both investigators waspishly in perfect unison.

As Filch scurried off, Severus turned his attention to the chamber and Hermione wandered around the chamber. In their respect corners of the room, they looked over the manuscripts, books and wizarding paraphernalia that lined the walls. Dumbledore had indeed been a keen scholar in transfiguration and the other magical arts. There were books on every possible wizarding subject in nearly every language imaginable.

'Do you notice something strange?' asked Severus, breaking the silence.

'Everything is too neatly arranged,' she concurred. Dumbledore was not for being a methodological and tidy person, and it did strike her as odd that even his desk was clean and free from books. 'The place after the Aurors had completed their investigation.'

She made her way to the desk and lightly touched the vellum and quills Dumbledore would have sat writing textbooks on transfiguration. Now his voice and his presence in the wizarding world would be heard no more. His death at the hands of so-called thieves had robbed wizarding Britain of one of its greatest innovators and leaders. How could anyone be satisfied with the Ministry report? Hermione glanced down at the vellum and frowned. 'Severus,' she called out, 'Here's something else that's strange. The parchment is pristine.'

'That's nonsense!' he replied, loping his way towards her. 'He was always writing down some crackpot idea whatever his health and state of senility.' He frowned when he saw that his colleague had spoken the truth. Everything on the desk from the papers to the quills were laid out too neatly. They were too carefully placed and too much in order.

'Another curious thing has surfaced,' commented Hermione, when her wandering eye caught something on a nearby shelf.

Severus looked up to see her biting her lip in consternation with her head cocked to one side. He followed her gaze and found it levelled at a small sheepskin-bound book on the shelf nearest to the desk. There appeared to be something tucked inside the book and it had just jutted out above the pages.

'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' she enquired, reaching forward and drawing out the book.

His lips curled into a catlike smirk. 'That the book is incongruous. Why would a slip of parchment be sticking out of a book when everything else was so neat and tidy? That very untidiness ruins the prospect.'

'Precisely,' she murmured. The slip of parchment fluttered awkwardly in her hands and made a slow glide to the floor.

Both the arithmancer and the alchemist bent down to retrieve it. As they did so, they noticed something protruding behind one of the stout legs of the desk. Hermione flicked her wrist in the direction of the desk and picked up the parchment. Severus grumbled at being ordered about and eased the object from its hiding place.

'Well, well,' he purred in faint interest. 'We have a cold, greasy iron key.'

Hermione leaned over his shoulder and propped her chin there, staring at the object in his hand. 'Let's try the door,' she suggested, rising purposefully before he could protest her blatant use of a part of his body.

A long suffering sigh later, Severus joined her at the door. To neither of their astonishment, the key fitted into the lock. Hermione uttered a pensive 'hmmm' and he raised a brow when he turned the key slowly in the lock.

'You know what this means?' he said, pocketing the key.

'Massive government conspiracy in this cover-up?' she replied, studying the piece of parchment. It was a brief note. A half constructed paragraph – that was it. It read: The administration should know that the truth and acceptance of that truth is the only means of ensuring the survival of our world – By despising the other sectors of the wizarding world that are not deemed profitable or useful to society or the economy, and by disavowing their existence, we will simply teach this and future generations to despise our beliefs and way of life.

Hermione handed the note to Severus and frowned once again. Before she could ask him for his opinion as to its meaning, a voice intruded into the room.

'You asked for me?'

The academics-turned-investigators turned around and saw a thin, auburn haired witch with thin lips staring pointedly at them.

Severus pocketed the piece of parchment before addressing the new arrival. 'Dr Clearwater,' he began, not bothering with pleasantries. 'We were told that you informed the Chancellor about the itinerants camping in the woods near the river on the night of Dumbledore's death.'

Penelope Clearwater nodded readily. 'I did. I had noticed them, in fact, a day before the tragic occurrence. I merely thought they were squib beggars, or wizards who had been stripped of their wands and forced to beg for alms and employment. I don't see why the Ministry doesn't execute the lot of them. No one would employ those wretches or go near them with any charity in mind anyway. They are an eyesore to the community."

'The wizarding community would be too small to warrant a Ministry if we executed the lot of them,' sneered Hermione coldly. Clenching her fists into angry balls to contain her anger at this parroting of official Ministry lines, she would have harangued Dr Clearwater had Severus not stayed her by playing a steadying hand on her shoulder.

'Indeed,' sniffed Dr Clearwater dismissively.

'What made you think they were responsible for the theft and murder of Albus Dumbledore?' asked Severus quickly before Hermione could give the head of the Charms department a severe tongue lashing.

Dr Clearwater shrugged as if it were a matter of little importance. 'Who else but desperate elements of our society would commit such a dastardly act against one of the greatest wizards in our time?'

'Are you so sure that these "desperate elements" would kill when all they wanted was food and warm clothing?' responded Hermione waspishly, much to Severus's amusement.

Dr Clearwater shrugged disinterestedly again. "No well-adjusted individual in our world who is one with the ideals set down by the wizarding state would dare deprive our world of a brilliant wizard, especially one who was as elderly, frail and senile as Dumbledore had become in recent years. It is a well-known fact that squibs and wandless wizards are willing to do anything to bring the rest of us down.'

'I think you should learn to separate propaganda from fact,' Hermione said coldly.

'The truth is that they have robbed and killed in this case,' riposted a frosty Dr Clearwater.

Severus interjected at this point in a low purr, 'Now is not the time for a political discussion. Dr Clearwater, is there any proof that these itinerants robbed from the wizarding chapel?'

'The proof is that an icon of St Lucy and two gold chalices from the altar are gone. The proof is that Dumbledore's silver goblet for the high table has also gone. The proof is that Dumbledore's jewelled magnifying glass is gone. The proof is that Dumbledore was found dead – hanged. The proof is that the former Death Eaters remain loyal to their Lord's cause even though they are now wandless. Emboldened by the Ministry's decision not to put them to death, they continue Voldemort's policy of eliminating the old ways through defacing the wizarding shrines and stealing from the chapel. This persistent perpetuation of Voldemort's policy is behind Dumbledore's death. The proof is there if you are willing to see it,' snorted Dr Clearwater in disdain at the investigators.

'But nothing you have said is proof that these itinerants were the culprits,' Severus pointed out in a low, quiet voice. 'Is there any proof that is absolute?'

'These undesirables were camping in the woods near the river across the university. They were there on the day before Dumbeldore's death.' Dr Clearwater wrinkled her nose scornfully at the thought of this underclass of wizarding society. 'On the morning that Dumbledore was discovered and the items were declared missing, I told the Chancellor, the Deputy Commissioner of the Aurory and the Minister of my suspicions and was sent to observe these savages and retrieve the chapel's valuables. But they had gone when I returned to the area. To me, that is proof that guilt made them hurry away from the scene of the crime. As former Death Eaters, I expect them to be smart enough to know that they should not return to the scene of the crime. I did find the leader in charge of that motley community though and he said he would help – as if.'

'It is circumstantial proof only and that is not absolute proof in law. Did you inform the leader of these itinerants of your suspicions?' Hermione harrumphed, folding her arms.

'He said everyone was accounted for and that no one did the deed. Lies, of course,' said Dr Clearwater with great conviction.

Noticing that Hermione's eyes had darkened in rage, Severus saw that it was best to drop the issue of the itinerants for the time being. 'Did anyone observe anything strange during the night when these events allegedly occurred?'

Dr Clearwater shook her head firmly with a defiant toss of her hair. 'The only person who must have been roused by the undesirables was poor Dumbledore.'

It was now Severus's turn to be put out and he narrowed his eyes on hearing his former employer and emotional blackmailer being called 'poor'. Hermione had mastered her emotions by this time and could look coldly at her former schoolmate. 'Does it not seem strange to you,' she began in a slow and deliberate voice, 'that an elderly wizard, who was getting increasingly frail with illness and dementia would be the only one disturbed during the night?'

'Haven't you noticed the obvious?' Dr Clearwater looked down her nose at Hermione. 'This chamber is next to the chapel. Dumbledore always kept late hours while working. There is nothing strange about anything.'

'What about the fact that Chancellor Flitwick's chambers are next door to Dumbledore's?' enquired Severus. 'Why should one wizard hear something and the other not?'

'The Chancellor is a sound sleeper,' answered Dr Clearwater simply.

'By that statement, you imply that Dumbledore is not a sound sleeper,' Hermione pointed out with a knowing smirk.

'I do not understand.'

Both investigators exchanged glances at her apparent confusion as if to say that they had uncovered yet another clue.

The alchemist decided to seize the opportunity afforded by Dr Clearwater's confusion and cracked what could pass for a forced smile. 'No matter. When was it discovered that the artefacts were stolen?'

'Filch discovered the body of Dumbeldore and raised the alarm. A search was made and the cups were found missing.'

'And no physical or magical damage was done in the chapel nor this room before Mr Filch had to break in?' queried Hermione in an ironic lilt.

'None,' replied Dr Clearwater, licking her lips as though she was mentally deciding what she should next say. 'As far as I am aware, there was no damage to anything. Had there been, it might have roused the transfiguration staff and the Chancellor, and we might have saved Dumbledore.'

Severus curled his lips contemptuously as he mused on that which had just been revealed. 'Tell me, was Dumbledore known in Cambridge as an exceptionally tidy person?' he asked, knowing full well that the contrary was the case.

Dr Clearwater blinked at the abrupt change of question, uncertain as to what should make of her former potions master. 'He was not especially so. It is a well-known fact.'

Severus gestured broadly to the room and his eyes glittered as he affected a nonchalant look. 'Was this how the chamber was found?'

'Obviously not,' sniffed she laboriously. 'It has been tidied after his body was removed. I think that his papers were tidied and his clothes put away until it was decided what should be done with them.'

'Which house elf did the tidying?' quizzed Hermione, inclining her head forward in interest.

Dr Clearwater's eyes widened slightly in surprise as if an utterly ludicrous question had been put to her. 'Chancellor Flitwick himself.'

The alchemist and the arithmancer exchanged another intelligible glance. One shook his head and the other sighed. 'That is all, Dr Clearwater,' they announced.

Hermione hesitated a moment after Penelope Clearwater had left, and looked at the area where Dumbledore would have been working, examining the books and papers carefully. 'What now? There appears to be some kind of cover-up by both the Ministry and the University.'

'We uncover the truth,' he said simply, tracing his lips musingly. 'This is like an elaborate game of Go; the black player thinks he has the advantage of moving first, but we shall see. Come, let's go to the chapel. We might find something else to aid our game play.'

Footnotes:

Everything here on wizarding politics is entirely made up. It may be disturbing but I assure you, I write what I know.

Readers may object to the 'Secret Department of Unspeakable Unspeakables'. I call it thus, as I explained in the first story, Christmas Presents Undisguised, because the agents there are more unspeakable than normal unspeakables. They are so unspeakable that they are secret.

Joseki is a set pattern of moves in Go that brings benefit to both sides. Like chess openings, although it benefits both players, it can benefit one player over another if play is extended.

St Lucy was mentioned in chapter 4 of Christmas Presents Undisguised as the Muggle patron saint of blindness and wizarding saint of foresight. She is traditionally depicted as balancing two eyeballs on a scale, make what you will on that.

My beta also alerted me to the fact that my use of "Enquire" as opposed to "Inquiry" may throw some readers off. The way I use it is as follows:

"Inquiry" is to investigate something. Example: The auditors launched an inquiry into the state of the company's financial situation.

"Enquire" is to ask (a question). Example: May I enquire whether Malaysian Airlines flight 8 has arrived?