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Chapter 750 - 0750 The News

[Alastor Moody & Dolores Umbridge Appointed Special Inquisitors]

As always, news this big landed straight on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Just seeing the headline was enough to make Hermione's composure crack a little.

"Special Inquisitors?

"Mad-Eye Moody and Dolores Umbridge?

"No wonder they've been missing all this time.

"Still, doesn't that title sound a bit off?"

Sherlock, seeing the state Hermione was in, simply handed her the newspaper.

Hermione understood what he meant, took the paper, and began reading aloud:

"The Ministry of Magic passed a new decree yesterday, marking the dawn of a new era for the wizarding world.

"'The Minister has enjoyed a most productive rapport with Professor Dumbledore of late,' says Percy Weasley, Assistant to Minister Pius Thicknesse. 'This reflects a deepening exchange and cooperation between the Ministry and Hogwarts.'

"Since Minister Pius Thicknesse took office, this is far from the first instance of cooperation between the Ministry and Hogwarts. Not long ago, Thicknesse extended an invitation to Albus Dumbledore—Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot to serve as Honorary Minister for Magic, an offer Dumbledore declined for reasons of his own.

Thicknesse also publicly disclosed the existence of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization said to have been founded by Dumbledore to oppose He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers (commonly known as the Death Eaters).

This organization made tremendous sacrifices and contributions during the wizarding war, and now that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, the Order of the Phoenix has reorganized and resumed operations.

'We have chosen to make this public in order to restore the good names of those who made contributions during the war,' said Minister Thicknesse. 'As is widely known, Sirius Black endured a wrongful conviction for twelve long years—in fact, both he and the true traitor, Peter Pettigrew, were founding members of the original Order of the Phoenix.'

For reasons of confidentiality, the names of other Order members, aside from Dumbledore and Black, will not be disclosed at this time.

Wizengamot senior members Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden both stated that the Ministry should have taken this step long ago. 'Over the course of the past year, both professors performed admirably, earning the unanimous praise of the entire school faculty, student body, and Hogwarts parents,' Weasley added. 'Starting now, they will be granted this appointment in addition to their teaching posts, and we are pleased to report that both have graciously accepted.'

In the period ahead, Professor Moody and Professor Umbridge will serve as key liaisons between the Ministry and Hogwarts, fully exercising their role as a bridge between the two during this extraordinary time.

As for the specific duties of the Special Inquisitor, the Ministry has not yet made this information public."

(For biographical profiles and life histories of Mad-Eye Moody and Dolores Umbridge, see page nine of this issue.)

Having read it through in one breath, Hermione set down the paper and turned to Sherlock.

"Sherlock, what do you make of it?"

"Consistent with what I'd already deduced." Sherlock's fingers tapped lightly against the table. "Saddling Professor Moody with duties beyond his post—it looks like he'll have his hands full."

"Indeed. Former Ministry Auror, Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Order of the Phoenix member and now Inquisitor on top of all that."

Hermione thought aloud, "But why pair him with Umbridge? That woman didn't accomplish a single useful thing last year!"

"For the sake of stability, I'd imagine."

An unmistakable look of distaste crossed Sherlock's face, though his tone remained fairly even.

"Fudge may have stepped down, but he wasn't fighting alone from the moment he became Minister for Magic, he represented a particular faction.

"The same is true of Umbridge. When she rose to power last year, she represented the will of Fudge and a segment of the Ministry.

"Now that Fudge has left office, she remains and that alone tells you something."

Hermione nodded slowly.

This too was a kind of helplessness.

Even Sherlock Holmes had no way around the larger political currents at play.

Simply managing to install Pius Thicknesse in the position of Minister for Magic in the first place had already been quite the feat. In a sense, it counted as the first genuine collaboration between the Muggle world and the wizarding world.

After lunch, Sherlock and Hermione headed to the school library once more.

With Sherlock's help, Hermione might as well have grown wings her essays were practically wrote themselves.

At the same time, she served as Sherlock's external, ambulatory reference library.

So whenever the two of them worked together, the results came twice as easily.

"By the way, Sherlock—has Professor Dumbledore turned up any leads on the remaining Horcruxes?"

"According to witnesses from that night at Azkaban, the great serpent Nagini has been at Voldemort's side the entire time.

"As for the fragment of soul lodged in Harry now that Harry has more or less mastered Occlumency, it's grown considerably more stable.

"Which means that for a good while yet, Voldemort won't discover this particular connection between himself and Harry.

"Hufflepuff's cup, however... remains unaccounted for."

Hermione let out a sigh at this. "That's going to be difficult."

"The only lead we have on that one is this: after Voldemort murdered Hokey's owner—I mean, after he murdered Hepzibah herself—he obtained both the cup and Slytherin's locket from that unfortunate witch at the same time.

"The locket was later hidden by Voldemort in a cave he considered to be of great personal significance.

"Taking that together with the Horcruxes we've already located—Tom Riddle's diary, Ravenclaw's diadem, and Marvolo Gaunt's ring, I've provisionally arrived at two possibilities."

Sherlock held up two fingers as he spoke, and Hermione fixed her full attention on him.

"First: like the locket, the diadem, and the ring, it was hidden by Voldemort himself, somewhere on his own.

"Somewhere akin to the Horcrux cave, the Room of Requirement, or the Gaunt family home—a location that holds particular significance for him.

"Second: like Tom Riddle's diary, it was entrusted by Voldemort to someone else for safekeeping.

"Based on Voldemort's character, and on probability, the second scenario is by far the more likely."

"Tom Riddle's diary was given by Voldemort to Lucius Malfoy so Hufflepuff's cup might well have been given to some other trusted Death Eater. Is that right?"

"That is, at present, the most probable inference," Sherlock said slowly. "The pity of it is that Professor Snape's position is far too sensitive for him to go probing around the subject."

Hermione nodded. Horcruxes were important, certainly but Professor Snape's life mattered just as much.

Sherlock was no Dumbledore; he would never condone extracting information at the cost of someone's safety.

Especially now that she knew the Half-Blood Prince was Snape, Hermione's view of him had shifted once again.

The man was, truly, complicated.

That Dumbledore had managed, back then, to persuade Snape to work for their side—that alone was remarkable.

"No. The remarkable one is Harry's mother."

Sherlock shook his head. "Even after all these years since her death, she still manages to influence so many people."

"You mean Professor Slughorn, I take it?" Hermione couldn't help laughing at this. "Honestly, I find that professor rather amusing."

Time slipped by unnoticed like this, the setting sun spilling through the window onto the shoulders of the two of them, lending the scene an air of particular harmony.

By the time the third-years and above returned from Hogsmeade, Sherlock needed only a single glance before lowering his head again.

"Sounds like you ran into quite a few familiar faces today. Besides Hagrid and Slughorn, who else?"

"Sherlock, how did you—"

Before Harry could finish, Sherlock had already cut him off.

"That handprint on your robes, and the smell still clinging to you—

"Never mind, it's not important. Though Ron doesn't look terribly pleased. Which means Slughorn invited you again, right in front of him?"

Harry looked admiring. "I knew there was no hiding it from you—"

"Right, right—of course Sluggy's only got eyes for the top students!"

Ron said this with apparent irritation, mimicking Slughorn's tone with exaggerated flourish:

"'Harry, you've missed three of my little dinner parties now.

"'That simply won't do, my boy—I'm absolutely set on having you.

"'Mr. Holmes and Miss Granger are both such enthusiastic guests at these little gatherings!

"'You keep telling me it's bad timing, but I refuse to believe you can dodge me forever!'"

Watching Ron in this state, Harry couldn't help but try to talk him down. "Ron, come on..."

"Oh, spare me, Harry—you saw it yourself, he only had eyes for you!

"I might as well have been part of the shop display—one of the cockroach clusters!"

Harry wanted to console him but didn't quite know where to start, because Slughorn's behaviour really had been that exaggerated.

From the moment he greeted the group to the moment he swept off again, he genuinely hadn't spared a glance for someone like Ron standing right there.

Of course, Ron wasn't the only one overlooked—Cho Chang and Lavender Brown had been ignored by Slughorn just the same.

It was only that their reactions hadn't been quite so dramatic as Ron's.

Speaking of Lavender, Harry glanced at Ron again, clearly wanting to say something and holding back.

"Strictly speaking, you'd count as thin air."

"Sherlock, what did you just say?"

Ron stared at him, utterly incredulous.

"I said that in Slughorn's eyes, you don't even register as a cockroach cluster.

"A cockroach cluster on a shelf could at least catch someone's attention.

"But as far as I can tell, to Professor Slughorn you're practically non-existent—like air."

"Sherlock, you—"

"And there's the matter of your foul mood, which isn't only about the old professor. So why exactly did you and Miss Brown quarrel?" Sherlock regarded Ron with evident interest.

Ron was stunned.

He'd worked so hard to hide it, so how—

"My dear Ron, an explanation is a form of concealment, and concealment is itself a confession."

Sherlock had, once again, seen straight through him.

"Every time, Hermione and I attend Professor Slughorn's little gatherings, while Harry and Ginny stay behind with you.

"And judging by your performance just now, the reaction was, frankly, a touch overplayed.

"Finally—the four of you left together, and only two of you came back. Rather too obvious to miss."

"But Cho didn't come back with Harry either!" Ron protested, though the bluster in his voice was plain for everyone to see.

"Cho Chang isn't a Gryffindor student, for one thing but very well, I'll say it plainly: I'm actually rather curious about this whole business."

Not long ago he'd told Hermione that Lavender Brown seemed like just the right girl for Ron, and now the two of them had already gotten themselves into a spat—that, naturally, piqued his curiosity.

"It's really nothing much," Harry said, glancing at Ron. Seeing no sign of objection, he went on:

"We were having drinks at the Three Broomsticks, and Lavender caught Ron staring at Madam Rosmerta."

"Ohh."

Sherlock and Hermione both wore expressions of sudden understanding.

Well, that explained it—that completely explained it.

The three of them had long known that Ron secretly fancied the pub's alluring landlady.

He'd tried more than once, on previous visits to the Three Broomsticks, to catch her attention.

Unfortunately, in her eyes, he was nothing more than a boy who hadn't even finished growing his first proper stubble.

Sherlock turned suddenly to Hermione. "Hermione, what's your take?"

Hermione blinked, then shook her head, somewhat helplessly. "I'll go talk some sense into Lavender tonight."

"Hmph, who asked you to go sticking your nose in!"

Ron said this with his mouth, but the hopeful look in his eyes gave him away all over again.

After all, who wouldn't want a girl nearby who was reasonably good-looking and had eyes only for him?

But the more fiercely a woman throws herself into love, the more violent the backlash tends to be when trouble strikes.

Even after Hermione explained to Lavender that there was truly nothing between Ron and the Three Broomsticks' landlady, Lavender wasn't having any of it.

"I know that already, obviously!" Lavender shouted at Hermione. "I just want him to do something about it!

"And he still won't even talk to me first!"

Hermione sighed inwardly, thinking, well, whose fault is it that you built him up so much in the first place?

Now, expecting him to be the one to back down and apologize first as if that were ever going to happen.

When Hermione relayed this to the others, Ron simply gave a cold snort— "Who cares" and walked off.

"That's it? It's over, just like that?"

Hermione watched him go, rather taken aback.

Ron and Lavender's little romance had ended awfully fast, hadn't it?

"Not that easy."

Surprisingly, it was Harry—Ron's best friend who shook his head.

Sherlock nodded as well.

Watching the two of them share this perfectly synchronized look, Hermione couldn't hide her surprise.

She looked at Sherlock, then at Harry, and finally couldn't help asking, "Are you two... keeping something from me?"

Sherlock and Harry exchanged a knowing smile.

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