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The lingering gloom of many days finally dispersed on the first day of the new year. The rising sunlight spilled over the pristine white Quidditch pitch, its reflected brilliance draping Hogwarts Castle in a thin, pale golden veil.
After preparing Hermione's essential restorative potion early, Madam Pomfrey went downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. In the Hospital Wing, only Harry and Ron remained, accompanying a dejected Hermione. After listening to Hermione recount her ordeal from the previous night, their expressions weren't exactly cheerful either.
"Professor Snape definitely knows!"
Hermione buried her face in her furry hands, looking crestfallen.
"Professor Snape called out my name before the door even opened. That shouldn't have happened. Besides Madam Pomfrey, no one knew my condition. Professor Snape is a Potions Master; he must know the consequences of using Polyjuice Potion for animal transformation. So, that means he knows I stole ingredients from his private stores."
Harry stared blankly at the towering goalposts on the Quidditch pitch. Today, he and Ron had planned to visit Hermione, then head to the pitch for a game of Quidditch. But now, it seemed that plan would undoubtedly be cancelled.
Moreover, the good mood he'd enjoyed since the Christmas holidays, owing to no one secretly whispering about his Parseltongue or covertly accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin, was rapidly fading. All of it stemmed from the young wizard Hermione had just told him about, a wizard named Amosta Blaine.
"Amosta Blaine, who claims to be an investigator."
Harry asked, full of worry, "Hermione, what do you think this Blaine person has come to Hogwarts to investigate?"
"Do you even need to ask, Harry? What else is there to investigate at school right now?"
Harry and Ron seemed not to worry at all about being expelled over this matter, which made the little witch, already in a foul mood, even more irritable.
Harry felt his stomach, warmed by the morning's rice porridge, clench with an inexplicable chill. He had never heard that name before, and apart from Mr. Weasley, he had never dealt with any wizard bearing an official title. But that didn't stop a heavy pressure from settling in his heart upon hearing the designation 'investigator'.
Because of his Parseltongue, he was already an object of suspicion among the other young wizards. If everyone found out an investigator had come to the school in the second half of the term, how much more censure would he have to endure? Harry could almost see Malfoy's obnoxious face sporting a triumphant smirk. Perhaps, he would be the first to report him to the investigator.
"Why would the Ministry of Magic suddenly send an investigator to the school... I mean, Headmaster Dumbledore is here, and he never mentioned anything to me."
Bringing this up, Harry suddenly remembered the night Justin was attacked, and his conversation with Headmaster Dumbledore in his office. At the time, for various reasons, especially fearing that Headmaster Dumbledore might mistakenly think he had some connection to the founder of Slytherin House, he hadn't revealed Dobby's warning or the terrifying voice that appeared before every attack.
Could it be that Headmaster Dumbledore was displeased with his concealment, and thus agreed to let the Ministry of Magic take over? Then would the Ministry of Magic, for simplicity's sake, just heed the school rumors and throw him into that wizarding prison Malfoy mentioned?
"Needless to say, Harry, it must be that old bat Snape stirring up trouble behind the scenes!"
Ron, holding half a potato pasty, curled his freckled nose and swore with certainty.
"Think about it, Harry, this Blaine and Snape are close. Maybe he even graduated from Slytherin House."
Ron started chewing his pasty again, analyzing with a knowledgeable air.
"Who wants to get you out of this school the most? Snape, without a doubt. I bet you, Harry, this investigator is someone Snape found to do just that..."
"Thank you, Ron. Hearing your analysis makes me feel much better."
Harry slumped dejectedly onto the edge of the bed, speaking listlessly.
"Don't talk nonsense, Ron."
Regardless of the reason, since Snape hadn't directly exposed her last night, it seemed this might mean she wouldn't be expelled for stealing the professor's property. Having understood this, Hermione was slightly less nervous. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared fiercely at Ron.
"Even the Minister for Magic has no right to arbitrarily expel a Hogwarts student, unless Headmaster Dumbledore agrees. But Harry, Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't expel you, would he?"
If it had been before that conversation, Harry might have given a definite answer. He had always felt that the old man with silver hair and beard was a little different with him and the other young wizards, even though their direct conversations had been few and far between.
"Perhaps, Hermione," Harry hesitated, answering, "At least, Dumbledore told Hagrid that he doesn't believe I attacked Colin and the others. He can't just agree to expel me because I withheld some things from him."
Just as Harry was fretting, Ron, who had been refuted by Hermione, continued to grumble softly, expressing his opinion. Suddenly, he frowned, looking at the pure white ceiling, and made a thoughtful expression.
"Amosta Blaine... that name, I feel like I've heard it somewhere?"
This whispered murmur instantly enlightened Harry.
"Ron, since this Blaine claims to be an investigator, he must be a colleague of Mr. Weasley or something. Perhaps their relationship is quite good. Maybe... you could write a letter for me and ask? I mean, explain beforehand, before he finds me—"
Ron's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, were Harry's favorite wizards, and they were very kind to him. The week he had spent with the Weasleys last year was the most wonderful part of his summer holidays in years. If Mr. Weasley knew Amosta Blaine, he certainly wouldn't refuse to help him make his case.
The golden sunlight gradually climbed the goalposts on the Quidditch pitch, and the breeze sweeping across the spacious grounds carried a hint of vibrant spring.
"Of course, no problem, Harry, I can write a letter..."
Ron responded hesitantly, still trying to recall where he had heard the name.
"Fred and George might have heard of him too. As for Percy the prefect, oh, we'd better not go to him. For the sake of his career, he might be even more eager to sell us out than Malfoy!"
"He's your brother, Ron," Hermione said, throwing off her covers and sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her boots. "You shouldn't speak about him like that."
Among the trio, Hermione had the highest regard for Ron's brother, Percy Weasley. Privately, she had consulted Percy many times for difficult problems, and Percy had indeed used his extensive knowledge to help Hermione solve quite a few issues.
"Before he became a prefect and vowed to become Head Boy, we were indeed brothers. But now, it's hard to say."
Ron's ears were flushed red as he fumed, "I'll never forget the five points he took from me in Myrtle's Bathroom!"
"Percy is a prefect, maintaining discipline is his duty, Ron."
Although she had been present when Percy deducted points from Ron, she didn't think there was anything wrong with Percy's actions.
Hermione stood up, stomped her boots, then turned up the collar of her wizard robes, trying her best to conceal the black fur on her cheeks.
"Go get your Invisibility Cloak, Harry. Do you expect me to walk out of the Hospital Wing looking like this?"
"Oh, go out?"
Harry, who had been spacing out, snapped back in surprise. "Are you coming to play Quidditch with us, Hermione?"
"When are you ever going to get Quidditch out of your brain, Harry?"
Hermione looked defeated. "Of course, we're going to investigate Mr. Blaine. We have to figure out his background first, don't we?"