The Suspect Potter Seeking to Prove His Innocence (2)

All day, Harry had been thinking about Colin.

It was not that he did not want to pay attention in class. It was just that those details buzzed around his head like a swarm of flies, impossible to drive away. Colin's rigid body lying in the shadows, Colin's wide-open, frozen eyes, the sharp crack of Colin's camera shattering when it hit the ground—

Those images kept replaying in his mind like a tape recorder with a jammed cassette. You pressed pause, but it kept making noise.

After the last class that afternoon, Harry hurried toward the library. Percy had said he could go to the library, as long as he returned to the common room before it closed. Hermione and Ron should already be there. They had agreed to meet that afternoon and sort through everything from beginning to end.

The library doors were made of oak, heavy enough to let out a low creak like a sigh when pushed open. Madam Pince stood behind the circulation desk, polishing the cover of a thick magic book with a chamois cloth. When she saw Harry enter, her gaze paused on him for a moment before shifting away.

The pause had been brief, but Harry noticed it.

She had not used to pause.

Hermione sat in their usual corner by the window. Seven or eight books lay spread across the table, with densely written parchment slips tucked between their pages. Her hair was messier than usual, as though someone had run their hands through it several times. A few loose strands had escaped her ponytail and stuck out at either side of her cheeks.

There were faint dark circles beneath her eyes, signs that she had not slept well—

She had probably stayed up late researching again last night.

Ron sat across