Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0630 The Questions

The warm glow of the fireplace illuminated the cozy office as Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves standing before Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson. An air of uneasiness shrouded the room, pressing down upon the trio's shoulders.

"I think there's no need for us to be so formal, is there?" Bryan broke the uneasy silence with a gentle chuckle. "This isn't the courtroom of the Wizengamot--unless, of course, you three have done some 'big things' while the Headmaster and I were away from school?"

At these words, the color drained from Harry's face. He avoided Professor Watson's probing gaze, as if the floor had become a subject of intense fascination. Beside him, Ron and Hermione shuffled their feet and fidgeted nervously, doing a poor job of concealing their unease.

Though the three friends tried to maintain an air of innocence, their guilty demeanors were glaringly obvious to the two wise wizards before them.@@novelbin@@

Dumbledore's long silver beard trembled as he shook his head, and a look of fond exasperation appeared across his old face. Beside him, Bryan let out a nearly imperceptible sigh. It seemed that peace and quiet were too much to expect when it came to this particular trio of students.

As long as Harry and the others didn't blow up the school, no matter what happened, it could be put aside for a while.

"Let's all have a seat, shall we?" Bryan suggested kindly, withdrawing his wand with a fluid motion. He gave it a neat flick, and three spindly-legged stools materialized out of thin air behind Harry, Ron and Hermione. "No sense in standing on ceremony."

As the children cautiously perched themselves on the edge of their seats, Dumbledore leaned forward, steepling his long fingers beneath his chin. His piercing blue eyes held no judgment, only a gentle warmth.

"As Professor Watson said, we've asked you here tonight in hopes that you might be able to shed some light on a matter of great importance," Dumbledore began, his tone measured and calming. "I'm afraid the answers we seek likely lie buried in the events of the recent past - events that, among all those currently at Hogwarts, only you three have had personal experience with."

Dumbledore gave them an apologetic smile. "Forgive us for intruding upon your dinner hour, but I'm afraid we had no other choice. The truth, you see, is of the greatest importance."

As he listened to the Headmaster's words, Harry felt a familiar sense of awe and admiration bloom in his chest. There had been a time, not so long ago, when Dumbledore had been the wizard he respected above all others. But ever since Professor Watson's arrival at Hogwarts, he'd found his assessment of the Headmaster...shifting, Evolving. It wasn't that he admired Dumbledore any less - never that. But there was a quietness to the Headmaster now, a subtle withdrawal, as if he had purposefully taken a step back to allow Professor Watson to step forward. 

Of course, Professor Dumbledore was still one of the wizards Harry most respected. He would not forget that in the first year, if it weren't for Dumbledore's extraordinary wisdom and overall planning, the Sorcerer's Stone of Nicolas Flamel might have already fallen into the hands of Quirrell who was controlled by Voldemort.

Neither Dumbledore nor Bryan expected Harry and the others to speak eloquently when facing them at the same time, so Bryan asked directly,

"Let's start with the night of the Quidditch World Cup, After the match ended - after the riot in the campsites. I know it must have been a terribly frightening experience, but we need you to walk us through what happened. Every detail you can remember."

'After everything was over?'

Harry blinked, a little confused.

Worry creased Hermione's brow as she glanced between Harry and Ron, clearly uncertain how much they should reveal. But after a moment, a look of determined expression appeared over her face.

Tentatively, she raised her hand, falling back on the familiar habit of the classroom. "Professor Watson, do you mean...after you left Sirius's tent that night? When we went looking for Harry's wand on the Quidditch pitch, and we...we saw..."

Her words caught in her throat, but she forced herself to continue. "The Dark Mark. You want to know about the Dark Mark, don't you?"

Hermione's expression suddenly became expectant,

"Are you and Professor Dumbledore...are you going to prove that Winky is innocent?"

"Oh, you can think of it that way, Hermione--" Bryan pursed his lips, "But before we can do that, we need to understand precisely what occurred that night, from start to finish. We're relying on you three to guide us through it."

'Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson are going to clear Winky of suspicion?'

Harry and Ron exchanged a hopeful, if slightly disbelieving look. The idea that someone as important as Professor Dumbledore would go out of his way to help clear the name of a lowly house-elf was difficult to wrap their minds around. Even Harry found himself blinking in surprise at the notion.

This sounded more magical than Hagrid finally realizing that Blast-Ended Skrewts are both disgusting and dangerous creatures. Harry and Ron moved their lips, but didn't say anything.

But Hermione recovered quickly, her heart leapt at the chance to right an injustice. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to quell the excited trembling of her hands.

"Winky is innocent, Professor," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "This is how it was, Professor Watson. That night, after you left, we were going to head to bed, but then Harry realized his wand was missing. So, we decided to sneak out and look for it..."

"Why don't you skip ahead to the part where you reached the Quidditch pitch?" Bryan interjected gently. "Start from there."

Hermione paused, looking mildly put out at being interrupted. But after a moment, she nodded in acquiescence.

"Right then. Well, we managed to slip past the Ministry wizards guarding the forest path by hiding under Harry's Invisibility Cloak," she explained, the words tumbling out of her in a breathless rush. "The Quidditch pitch was completely deserted when we got there - everything had been blasted apart and crushed. We didn't waste any time, just ran straight for the staircase beneath the top box where we'd been sitting during the match."

She grimaced slightly, shooting Harry a reproaching look. "But the stairs were a mess too. Harry was worried it wouldn't be safe for all of us to climb up at once, so he insisted on going first, alone."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling the weight of Ron and Hermione's exasperated gazes falling into him. He shot Hermione a vaguely resentful look, silently questioning the necessity of including such a detail in her recounting. But Hermione, caught up in the importance of her tale, paid him no mind.

"We were just arguing over it when suddenly...we heard something. A voice, coming from the top box," she said, her eyes growing wide and haunted at the memory.

"A voice?"

Dumbledore leaned forward intently at these words, his expression sharpening with interest.

"You mean you heard an incantation, right, Hermione? What kind of voice was it?"

Hermione blinked, not quite understanding Professor Dumbledore's question, but Ron raised his hand tremblingly.

Ron looked a little terrified, as if he had returned to that night and was frightened by the dreadful voice he suddenly heard in the ruins.

"It didn't sound right," he said, his own voice trembling slightly. "Like it was forcing the words out, like it was hard for them to even speak..."

Bryan's brow furrowed with concern. "Was there anything else unusual about it, Ron? Anything at all?"

"Uh--"

Ron frowned in concentration, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as he struggled to recall every detail. "It sounded like a man; I think. Definitely an adult, but not an old one either. And it definitely wasn't the elf, Winky. I'm sure of that much."

Bryan turned to share a meaningful look with Dumbledore, a silent understanding passing between them. After a moment, Dumbledore turned his head to Hermione.

"Please continue, Hermione--"

Hermione's hands tangled anxiously in her lap. "Right after we heard the voice, there was this...burst of light from the top box. A glowing green skull, with a serpent coming out of its mouth. I recognized it straightaway, that pattern was the one mentioned in the books. It was his sign. You-Know-Who's sign."

She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as if to ward off a sudden chill. "The Dark Mark."

"The Ministry wizards apparated in maybe twenty seconds later. As soon as they saw us standing there, they thought we were the ones who'd cast it. They tried to stun us, but luckily Ron's dad realized who we were and stopped them."

As Hermione recounted, Harry's memory also became clear. He remembered that the wizard who brought Winky down from the box and found his wand was called Amos.

Hermione continued, "Then the Ministry officials questioned us about why we appeared here and how we got past the blockade--"

Scowling at the injustice of it all, Hermione barely noticed when Dumbledore held up a hand to pause her retelling once more.

"What was Barty's reaction?" Dumbledore asked, "I mean, when he found out that the house-elf Amos discovered was Winky?"

"He couldn't believe it," Harry said, speaking up for the first time. "It was like he thought there must be some mistake. As soon as Winky was brought down, he apparated up to the top box to see for himself."

Recalling the unfair treatment Winky suffered that night, Hermione said angrily,

"Mr. Crouch probably thought Winky should have evacuated like everyone else, but actually Winky was just following his orders. Crouch ordered Winky to stay in the top box to hold a seat for him, even though he never showed up himself. Winky couldn't defy that order, so it stayed there the whole time. Mr. Crouch didn't even care that it had a fear of heights!"

Dumbledore carefully adjusted his spectacles. "And was Barty present in the top box when you arrived to investigate, Bryan?"

But before Professor Watson could respond, Harry shook his head. "No, Professor. Mr. Crouch's seat was empty the whole time."

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