Clouds of Suspicion

Time always slipped by swiftly in silence. In the blink of an eye, the first month of the second half of the school year had come to an end.

No thrilling topic could compete with the trivialities of everyday life. Amosta, who had entered Hogwarts under the title of the Board of Governors' specially appointed Investigator, had indeed caused quite a stir at first.

However, thanks to his extremely low profile and the fact that two months had passed since the last attack, discussion about him was quickly abandoned. Some people had even forgotten that the school had gained an Investigator from Slytherin.

Of course, some believed that the attacks had not continued precisely because the Investigator hidden in the shadows had played a crucial deterrent role.

For Harry, this was the best possible outcome.

People gradually stopped looking at him with suspicious eyes. Even Malfoy, who had been arranging for Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne, Pansy, and others to take turns reporting Harry to Amosta's office since the second week of term, seemed to have realized how pointless his behavior was and began to stand down.

There was another piece of welcome news: Hermione had finally gotten rid of that embarrassing black fur. Madam Pomfrey told them that she planned to formally discharge Hermione over the weekend.

Fred and George, meanwhile, had not been having much fun lately. Ever since learning how Mr. Breen monitored the school, the two no longer dared to roam the castle freely in the dead of night. Mr. Breen might seem easygoing, but that did not mean he could tolerate repeated provocation.

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Amosta remained in his office, watching Harry and Ron return to the Gryffindor Common Room and vanish from the image on the wall.

It had now been nearly three weeks since he posted that notice. Even Amosta himself had to admit that this initial probe had all but officially failed.

What should he do next?

Should he release false news that the attacked young wizards had regained consciousness, or should he keep waiting?

Amosta stared at the photograph of himself and Grandma Felena on the desk, uncertain for a moment.

The glass surface reflected a blurred young face, though it was still clear that he looked far more haggard than before. Amosta had to admit that he had somewhat underestimated the difficulty of this task—and his opponent's patience.

Amosta shifted his gaze to the opened letter above the notebook spread across the desk, filled with calculations and deductions for complicated spell models. The letter had arrived that afternoon, and it was from Cacus Fley.

Dear Mr. Breen,

I sincerely apologize for disturbing you while you are carrying out the commission, Mr. Breen, but there is something I believe you need to know.

Recently, an unknown force has suddenly appeared in the underground world. They have been asking everywhere about the whereabouts and true identity of "Golden Viper." Out of curiosity and caution, I conducted a brief investigation and discovered that their leader is the client who previously issued the magical ruins exploration commission. At present, I have yet to determine why they are searching for "Golden Viper."

Additionally, to my knowledge, Lucius Malfoy has been particularly active lately and appears to be plotting to drive Albus Dumbledore out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Yours sincerely,

Cacus Fley

Amosta rubbed his fingers together, his expression cold as his deep gaze repeatedly moved over the brief words on the letter.

Someone was investigating "Golden Viper"? Now that was interesting!

Who could it be? Amosta pondered quietly. In the more than three years he had operated in the underground world under the name "Golden Viper," he had, frankly, offended no small number of people for one reason or another.

But those who bore him a life-and-death grudge were none other than those big mongrels who relied on their tough hides and thick fur to act without restraint.

Yet since even Cacus had failed to uncover their identities, the ones investigating Golden Viper were presumably not those detestable werewolves. Those fellows had never deigned to hide who they were.

Cacus had provided too little information for Amosta to determine who had taken an interest in him. Other than reminding himself to remain vigilant, he had no good response for the time being.

As for the second point Cacus mentioned—Lucius Malfoy's scheme to drive Dumbledore away—Amosta was not particularly concerned. Anyone with a brain would find it hard to believe Malfoy could pull off something like that. The reason Cacus had brought it up in the letter was merely a subtle warning.

After all, Malfoy and the Greengrass Family had firmly opposed the appointment of an Investigator. If Lucius Malfoy really succeeded in temporarily forcing Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, it would mean that Amosta would immediately be driven out as well. And then the mission to find the Treasure of the Chamber of Secrets would fail completely.

With a quiet sigh, Amosta rose and walked to the bookshelf, taking out a copy of The Daily Prophet that had been delivered by owl on Monday morning from the lowest shelf.

Most of the front page was filled with cheerful, peaceful news. Only Rita Skeeter's sharp commentary on the Muggle Protection Act, which had been introduced the previous summer and had now been in effect for more than half a year, was remotely interesting.

But Amosta had not taken out the newspaper to revisit the amusing remarks of that reporter, famed for her acidity, harshness, and nonsense. He turned to page seven and fell into thought as he stared at a small announcement in the lower-right corner.

"At present, upon the recommendation of the Director of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and with the approval of the hospital's Board of Directors, Adelheid Fleury has been confirmed as Head of the Department of Strange Bacterial Infections. It is reported that Ms. Fleury joined St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as a healer in September 1975 and, as of the date of this report, has worked in the department for nearly eighteen years."

Was this why Cacus Fley had been so determined to take on the commission to find Slytherin's treasure?

Amosta's gaze darkened. At first, he had assumed that the person who issued the commission was merely a faction wizard or Dark Wizard from the underground world coveting Slytherin's treasure. But now, it seemed things were not so simple.

Who exactly had issued this commission?

A string of names belonging to powerful Ministry of Magic officials flashed through Amosta's mind, but he could not settle on an answer.

Knock, knock, knock—

The sudden knocking interrupted Amosta's thoughts. He glanced at the monitor and discovered that Professor Snape had come.

The nocturnal life was exhausting, so during these days, Snape occasionally came by to lend a hand whenever he had time, allowing Amosta to get some proper rest. But he normally sent Amosta word beforehand and had never paid a direct visit like this.

Ever since returning to the school, Professor Snape had shown obvious distance toward him. This had once puzzled Amosta greatly, but after giving it serious thought, he could understand it somewhat.

Professor Snape was perhaps afraid that if his old master ever returned to power, he would once again be trapped in the mire with no way out.

If too many people knew about their close relationship by then, Amosta would be dragged down as well. So Professor Snape's deliberate coldness was probably intended to protect him.

"Still no new discoveries?"

Always brisk in his movements, Snape strode into Amosta's office. He watched the pale young man behind the desk, and it was unclear whether the face that had always been sallow and stiff from inhaling too many poisonous fumes while brewing potions had undergone some subtle change.

"Obviously."

Amosta stood and stretched lazily. "Have you come to take over for me?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see you,"

Snape's lips moved as he sneered. "Perhaps you should prepare yourself to be dismissed, Amosta—"