Chapter 12
"Miss Lovegood, you are required for questioning."
Luna lifted her napkin off her lap, wiped her mouth gently, nodded to the others at the table and stood up. Susan squeezed her hand and Ron gave her an encouraging smile.
"Did you have to be so cold and formal about it?" Hermione scolded, albeit under her breath.
"I'm sure she can handle it."
Hermione sighed.
"I suppose it's clear who's going to be good cop and who's going to bad cop."
"You don't say," he breathed back.
Luna was now standing in front of them, looking as radiant and relaxed as ever. She smiled at the both of them.
"Thank you, Luna," said Hermione, reassuringly. "This shouldn't take long."
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm happy to help in any way."
They walked down to the end of the corridor, where there was a small room, empty save only a desk and three chairs. Riddle had cleared out any useless and distracting items earlier that morning. When he said so, Hermione hadn't realised he meant almost everything.
Once they were seated, Hermione began.
"How are you today, Luna?"
"I am well, thank you."
"I will be recording this using a muggle microphone as opposed to a Quick Quotes Quill, given its unreliability. I hope that is no issue."
"No issue at all."
"Wonderful. I will press start now," replied Hermione as she turned the microphone on and started recording. "Riddle and I are just going to begin with some standard questions. I need you to answer truthfully and in your own words. I hope that's alright."
Hermione was trying in every possible way to avoid being condescending, and so refrained from asking 'do you understand?' even though it might have been more professional.
"Yes, that's alright."
"Please outline the entire nature of your relationship and dealings with the late Justin Finch-Fletchley."
Luna spoke fluently and concisely, informing Hermione of details that she already knew. They had never been close friends. Their relationship did not extend further than that of schoolmates and members of Dumbledore's Army. Riddle asked her to clarify the nature of this army, but Hermione assured him there was no need. All in all, the question lead to no new information, but Hermione was expecting this. She knew this was a question she had to ask each suspect. 'Suspect' - she didn't quite like that word, but there was no point in beating about the bush.
"Thank you, Luna. I will now ask you to clarify precisely where you were between the hours of 2230 on the fifth of November and 0500 on the sixth of November."
She gave her answer, which Hermione had been expecting. After dinner she had gone straight to her room and stayed there until 5am, when she was woken up with everybody else.
Nothing unexpected there either.
They continued with some further questions, again providing no new or significant information.
"Can you or anybody else corroborate your whereabouts?"
She replied that she was alone, although Hermione had seen her enter her room.
"Did you see or hear anybody leave their room during the given time frame?"
She replied that she had heard some muffled sounds before she fell asleep, but that she couldn't be too sure.
"Did you ever see Mr Finch-Fletchley smoking or did you know him to be a smoker?"
She replied in the negative to both questions. She also added that her knowledge of this was limited, given that they were never close.
And finally, they came down to the one pivotal question.
Hermione extracted a photograph from a folder placed on the table in front of her. Riddle placed it in front of Luna.
"Please outline what you see in this photograph."
Luna Lovegood was not known to be often daunted or disconcerted by things, and yet her face fell with bewilderment upon seeing the photograph.
Luna blinked multiple times. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.
"Miss Lovegood, I need you state what you see in this photograph," Riddle repeated, a little firmer.
Her throat bobbed.
"A Butterbeer cork," she replied feebly.
"Can you confirm that you often make necklaces out of Butterbeer corks?"
"I can."
"And I am I correct in saying that you always wear one of these necklaces around your neck and are in fact presently wearing one?"
Luna took a deep breath.
"You are correct."
"Can you think of any possible reason or reasons as to why a Butterbeer cork was found in the deceased's bed when not a single bottle of the beverage is to be found within this manor?"
Hermione internally winced at Riddle's accusatory tone, but said nothing and waited for Luna's response.
When Luna failed to reply, Riddle expanded.
"That is to say that Mr Finch-Fletchley did not bring any Butterbeer bottles to this location and none were already here. I will repeat: can you provide an explanation for the discovery of this Butterbeer cork at the scene of the crime?"
Luna shook her head and looked down at her hands.
"I need an answer, Miss Lovegood."
"I- I- I don't know how a Butterbeer cork could have ended up in the room."
"Did you ever give Mr Finch-Fletchley one of these necklaces?"
"No."
"Did you ever give another person presently residing in this household one of these necklaces?"
"No."
"Would you say that it is unlikely that another person should own such a necklace, had you not given it to them?"
Luna gulped.
"I- I- suppose so."
"Please specify yes or no, Miss Lovegood."
"Yes, it is unlikely."
"As far as you are aware, you are the only person who makes these necklaces?"
"Yes."
"And the only person in possession of one?"
To this, Luna shook her head.
"No, I gave one to Neville Longbottom. And well, one to Colin Creevey, but he-"
"Died at the Battle of Hogwarts," Tom finished for her.
"Yes. How did you know?"
Tom ignored her question and continued.
"Did you place the Butterbeer cork in Mr Finch-Fletchley's room yourself?"
"No."
"Is it possible that the cork slipped off your necklace inside the deceased's room?"
"I never went inside his room."
"Is it possible, Miss Lovegood?"
Luna looked at the photograph more carefully.
"No. The cork has no puncture," she replied. She held out her own necklace, showing the hole through which the string was threaded. "It could not have slipped from my necklace."
Hermione hadn't been sure why Riddle asked this question, given that he knew this detail already, but she did not interfere.
"Is the cork at the end of your necklace the same one you arrived with?"
"Yes."
"Have you brought any other Butterbeer corks with you to this house?"
Luna hesitated.
"Yes. I have."
Tom leaned back in his chair.
"Thank you, Miss Lovegood. That will be all."
"They're for my necklaces - not - not anything else," she stammered as she got up from her seat, a final attempt to assure that she wasn't culpable.
"Yes, thank you."
Hermione shut her eyes and mentally groaned. She knew Riddle had pushed Luna too far, but it had been necessary. She shot up from her seat and showed Luna out.
"I'm so sorry about that, Luna. Thank you for being so cooperative."
Luna smiled feebly.
"Of course, Hermione."
Hermione reached into her bag.
"Here, have your wand back."
Luna took it from her, nodded and the door shut behind her.
"Don't you think that was a little harsh, Riddle?"
"Without any Veritaserum or Legilimency, I had little other alternative."
"Right," said Hermione, slumping back into her chair. She attempted to look out through the frosted glass window, albeit it to no avail. "What did you think of that?"
"Of what exactly?"
"Luna," replied Hermione, gulping as she spoke. "Did any of her information sway you?"
Riddle paused.
"I believe we need to interview a few more people before I can decide whether or not to consider myself swayed."
"Well, what do you think right now?" she asked, leaning forwards in her chair. "Pre-swaying, that is."
"Let us discuss this later," said Tom apathetically. "Who would you like to question next?"
"Why are you always so ... ?" began Hermione, the end of her sentence trailing off. Riddle raised an eyebrow at her and she immediately backtracked. "Never mind. Call in Blaise."
~
After a short break, they brought Blaise Zabini in. He had only woken up some twenty minutes prior and had been forced to rush his breakfast, which disgruntled him greatly.
He slouched down into his chair and tapped his foot against the wooden floor.
"Well, go on then, Granger. Ask me if I murdered him."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
"I have a set order, Blaise. Please cooperate."
Blaise rolled his eyes and gestured for her to continue.
"How are you today, Blaise?"
"On top of the fucking world, Granger, thanks for asking."
Hermione massaged her temples with her left hand and inhaled sharply. Riddle narrowed his eyes.
"Could you maybe not swear right now, Blaise?"
Blaise chuckled.
"As you wish, Detective."
"Hermione is fine."
"Sorry, Superintendent."
Hermione glared at him, fixed her note sheets so that they were perfectly aligned (even though they already were) and continued.
"I will be recording this using a muggle microphone as opposed to a Quick Quotes Quill, given its unreliability. I hope that is no issue."
"Shame. Would've loved to see you suck on one of them like old Rita."
"Blaise," she scolded before Riddle could say a word. She noticed him rile up.
"Sorry inspector, I swear I'll be on my best behaviour from now on," he said, holding his arms up in fake surrender.
"Do I have your consent?"
"Fuck me, inquisitor, you know you can have my consent any time," he winked, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms. "Shit, sorry about the swearing. Fuck. Wait. I'll stop now, I swear."
Hermione struggled not to bang her head against the table. This would be a far tougher interview than the one before.
"I'll just start recording," she sighed, abandoning her carefully contrived layout of things to say. She jabbed her finger on the start button.
The answers to the initial standard questions that Hermione asked were not too different from Luna's.
They had never been friends at Hogwarts, given that they 'moved in different circles', as Blaise put it. He had not in fact seen Justin since his days at Hogwarts until they all found themselves in their present location.
Riddle interjected to ask about his opinions surrounding pure-blood supremacy and whether he ever resented, shamed or bullied Justin Finch-Fletchley for being muggle-born. He replied that he personally never agreed with the pure-blood supremacy felt by some of his fellow Slytherins, proved by the fact that he never took the Mark or became a follower of You-Know-Who. He added that he did not consider anyone outside his group of Slytherin friends at Hogwarts. By 'consider' he meant both like and dislike. Hard as it may have been to believe, Blaise Zabini had been rather reserved at Hogwarts, sharing his jocular personality only with his closest friends. Others perhaps saw him as vain and aloof because of this, and so ever since the war, Blaise made a promise to himself to change this false assumption.
After dinner, he had gone upstairs with Draco Malfoy and had collapsed straight in bed, being too drunk to do much else. He only awoke the next morning, with the screams that rose the entire house.
No, he hadn't heard much going on outside his room. He had been drunk, drowsy and delirious.
Whether Justin Finch-Fletchley had been a smoker was entirely unbeknown to him.
And then the questions started to get interesting. Hermione extracted the printed photograph of the golden watch from her folder and once again, Riddle placed it in front of the suspect.
"Please outline what you see in this photograph."
Blaise's hand immediately flew to his left wrist, squeezing tightly. His mouth fell open.
He reached out to hold the photograph, scanning over it once, then again, then multiple times over.
"This is my watch."
"It was a gift, no?" asked Riddle smoothly.
"Yes. Yes, it was."
"From who, may I ask?"
"Well you bloody well know who," snapped Blaise, colour rising in his cheeks. "My father. The real one."
"By the real one, you mean..."
"My fucking birth father, alright?" spat Blaise, jumping forwards from his chair, his fists balling at his sides.
"Mr Zabini, losing your temper is doing you no favours in this present moment."
Blaise scowled, but Hermione could see him take deeper breaths in attempt to gain back his control.
"I received the watch for my thirteenth birthday. By owl back at Hogwarts," he said, trying to fizzle out his anger.
"But didn't De Cani die much before that?" asked Hermione, not being able to stop herself from butting in.
"He died before I could even speak. It was a present he had set aside for me at birth," said Blaise, solemnly and reflectively at first. Then his more sarcastic side came out. "That's why I said 'by owl', Detective Granger."
Hermione still had some unanswered questions. Whether she asked them out of necessity for the investigation or out of her own curiosity, she wasn't sure.
"You say De Cani is your birth father. But your surname is Zabini -"
"Zabini is my mother's maiden name which she never changed and apparently insisted on having me take. It's almost as if she knew the marriage to De Cani would not last long."
Riddle took over once again.
"And you always wore this watch around your wrist?"
"Well not until a day ago, no. Never took the thing off."
"Why then would we have found a watch of yours that you never removed at the scene of the crime?"
Blaise fell silent.
"I don't know," he said finally, very quietly.
"When did you have it last?"
"I'm not exactly sure-"
"You had it on at dinner," continued Tom, pushing further.
"I- I think so."
"No," declared Riddle, slamming the monosyllable down with a laugh. "You do not think so. You know so. You fiddled around with it and told Mr Finch-Fletchley the time when he asked for it around halfway through the meal."
Blaise's eyes narrowed and his jaw twitched.
"What the fuck are you trying to get at?" shouted Blaise, his voice a reckless storm. "What the fuck are you trying to say?"
"Riddle, let me take over," commanded Hermione firmly.
"Granger, leave me the fuck alone," said Blaise, still not lifting his eyes from Tom. Both were standing up by that point.
"I was just going to," said Hermione. "You've done enough, Blaise. You can go."
"We still need to-" began Tom.
"No," interrupted Hermione pointedly, reaching into her bag to extract Blaise's wand. "We've got everything we need."
Blaise took back his wand, turned and walked out of the room without another word.