Remembering him from school to be a thuggish Beater with no brains but an unerring aim, Oliver could feel his bones protest at the memory of the Bludgers aimed directly at him. He grimaced; it had not been Gregory Goyle who’d caused him to retire early. The Beaters he’d faced as a pro had been far more deadly, but their motives had not been personal.
At least he’d had the foresight to secure everyone’s wands because he’d have no chance against all eight of them if they turned hostile.
Astoria sat by the fire, with Draco sitting on the arm of the chair holding her hand. Camelia sat in another chair opposite, her husband standing behind her, a glass of brandy in his hand. Lucius Malfoy was at his desk, surveying his guests with some disparagement but reserving especial disdain for Oliver. Marcus Flint joined Goyle by the fireplace, both taking sips of Firewhisky from large tumblers.
Lastly, Oliver looked at Daphne. She was sitting on the rug by the fire, her legs to one side, at Marcus’ feet. She, too, had a glass in her hand, but instead of Firewhisky, she sipped red wine. Aware of his scrutiny, Daphne lifted her head up and smiled across the room at him. It didn’t look like a smirk, or a grimace; it seemed to be one of genuine warmth.
Oliver cleared his throat. “I want to start by saying thank you for your patience and assistance in this case.” He gave a small bow to Lucius Malfoy, who stared frostily at him. “Before I was sent here, I was ordered to be discreet. The murder of Astoria Malfoy would be front-page news, partly because of the two families involved, but mostly because of who she was - the Zeitgeist Girl. As it turned out, Miss Greengrass was not dead, but, to all intents as purposes, she was the intended victim.
“So, I arrived here and ran straight into the ‘victim’s’ sister. She insisted that Astoria had been murdered by Draco Malfoy.” Oliver licked his lips, and faced Draco. “Malfoy didn’t deny he’d argued with his fiancée. In the heat of an argument, he’d pushed her away and she’d fallen. This much he admitted, but when we got upstairs, he said he remembered ‘Astoria’ moving after he’d pushed her. She’d been alive when he’d left the room.”
“And you believed him?” Camelia interrupted.
“I wasn’t sure,” Oliver admitted, “but then I examined the body and found something in the victim’s hand.” He pulled out the sparkling gem from his pocket. “This came from the Black necklace, I believe. Draco, was Miss Parkinson holding this when you found her in your mother’s room?”
Draco furrowed his brow as he thought. “No, she’d found mother’s jewellery box, but she hadn’t opened it.”
“Which means, if Draco is telling the truth, that Pansy Parkinson was alive when he stormed out of the room,” Oliver said, slowly gauging the reactions of the assembled guests. “He ran into Daphne, and both agree that they argued for a while at the top of the stairs. Then Daphne ran to find her sister, and discovered the body.”
He paused, wondering how to phrase the next part of the story, not wishing to risk the ire of the Greengrasses or the Malfoys. “Daphne Greengrass said she found a body, but it’s possible she saw what she thought was her sister in a weakened state and finished her off.”
“You’re accusing my daughter now!” Herbert exclaimed furiously. He glared at Oliver.
“Let him finish,” Daphne murmured. She stared at Oliver, coolly assessing him, daring him to carry on.
“Daphne Greengrass has told me she was behind the whole ‘Zeitgeist Girl’, “Oliver said, staring straight at her. “She said it was because she wanted ‘reconciliation’ in our world. But ... I suspect the money and publicity generated didn’t harm the Greengrass family, either.”
“Is it a crime to make money?” Daphne laughed, scornfully throwing her head back and looking towards Marcus. “Darling, I’m out of cigarettes. Give me one before I go insane.”
Suavely, Marcus lit two cigarettes and handed one to her. Oliver watched as they both took drags, and exhaled at the same time. Smokescreens clouded everything, but when he looked for long enough the smoke cleared.
“Your sister was due to be married,” he murmured. “A big society wedding; the pinnacle of your success, Daphne. But ... Astoria Greengrass fell in love with a Malfoy, and they are no longer the top of the social tree. Worse, she gets pregnant before they’re married. Your dream is now shattered. You need to get something from your work, before it crashes around you. Perhaps the Black diamonds are an adequate reward?”
“That’s what you believe, is it?” Daphne drawled. “Hmm, let me guess. The theory is that I forced my sister into a trunk, recruited Pansy to impersonate her, and then killed Pansy when she wouldn’t hand over the diamonds. Very plausible, Wood, except ...” she paused and went to take a drag of her cigarette but thinking better of it she threw it into the fire, “... it’s complete bollocks. When Tori was being shoved into that trunk, I was waiting for Marcus. I discovered the body and alerted you immediately. Don’t you think I’d have been more circumspect if I’d committed the crime?”
“Alibis can be false,” Oliver murmured.
“Daphne was with me!” Marcus exclaimed. “I will swear it in front of anyone. You can even feed me Veritaserum. It will make no difference.”
Especially as the antidote is easy to take when you’re on your guard, Oliver thought.
“I don’t think ‘dead’ Wood really believes it, darling,” Daphne replied. “He’d have arrested me by now if he thought he had a cast-iron case.”
Oliver ignored her. Holding up the teardrop diamond to the light, he watched as its facets sparkled then turned to Lucius Malfoy. “Your wife’s necklace is beautiful, I’ve been told. It drips with diamonds and although some might find it ‘ostentatious’, it still reeks of glamour and money. It belongs to a past age, and not one that appeals to the Zeitgeist Girl “ or her sister “ so why was she so keen to wear it?”
“We know that was Pansy, though,” Draco said. “Why are you bringing all this up, Wood?”
Oliver nodded, and then in a gesture that surprised them all he tossed the diamond into the air. As it fell to the ground, he mimed blasting it with his wand. “What would have happened if I’d shot a Disintegration Hex at it, Mr Malfoy?”
“Nothing,” Lucius replied. “Diamonds are the hardest gemstone in the world.”
“Shall I try?” Oliver asked.
“It will rebound on you,” Daphne cried, a faint note of alarm in her voice.
He smiled at her concern but still raised his wand. Draco, he noticed, was looking worried and shielded Astoria in his arms. Daphne edged away hiding behind the chair. Goyle stared glassily ahead, possibly not understanding the implications of a rebounding hex. Flint, after a moment’s pause, ducked down behind the chair, while the Greengrass parents quickly moved to the side of the room.
“You’re not moving, Lucius,” Oliver called out. “Why would that be?”
And then he blasted the diamond, laughing as it disintegrated into dust.
“It’s a fake!” spluttered Draco and turned sharply to look at his father. “You knew!”
“Of course I knew,” Lucius muttered coldly. “I had this copy made last year. Oh grow up, Draco. How on earth do you think we’ve been making ends meet since the war, especially since your mother’s spending habits have not lessened?” He cast a bored look at Oliver. “I don’t quite know what point you’re trying to make, Wood, but wearing fake diamonds isn’t a crime.”
“But killing Pansy when she discovered they were fake is,” Oliver replied slowly. “You had a motive, Lucius. You would do anything to hold onto your social position, if only for your wife.”
He was staring so intently at Lucius, that he missed the entrance of a ninth person, until he heard the door close. Narcissa Malfoy, dressed all in black, and with no adornment stood there with her wand aimed at him.
“You are wrong,” she said, stepping further into the room. “My husband did not kill her.”
Slowly, Oliver lifted his wand, keeping eye contact with her all the while. “Why are you so sure, Mrs Malfoy? You weren’t here. I was told you were away.”
“I was,” she replied, faltering slightly. “I have been away and only just returned, but I know my husband. I know what prison did to him last time, and how much he fought to keep us all from Azkaban after the battle. He would not risk his liberty again, not to save face.”
“May I ask where you have been?”
“At a retreat,” Narcissa replied stiffly. “I find it calms me.”
Ignoring the suspicious bout of coughing emanating from both Daphne and Astoria, Oliver perused Narcissa Malfoy. He didn’t think she was lying, exactly, but she was certainly not telling the whole truth.
Narcissa glared at both girls before continuing, “I have several witnesses “ including Rita Skeeter. I doubt she’d lie to save my skin.”
“Will you surrender your wand to me, Mrs Malfoy?”
“Only if you admit that suspecting my husband is preposterous,” she argued.
As quick as a flash, Oliver, whilst appearing to agree, cast a Disarming Spell and caught her wand in his left hand as it twisted towards him.
“That’s not the way it works in my world, Mrs Malfoy,” he said, softly, pointing both wands at her. “You cannot threaten, blackmail or bribe your way out of trouble this time.”
“Leave her alone!” Lucius cried, stung into action. “I did nothing wrong.”
Oliver smiled grimly as he lowered both wands. He gestured for Narcissa to sit down, and then perching on the corner of the desk, continued his deliberations.
“He could have killed Miss Parkinson, but you’re right, I don’t think he did.”
“Is there any chance you could get on with this?” Marcus complained. “Only as the weekend has been cancelled, I don’t really see the need to hang around.”
“So eager to leave, Flint, I wonder why,” Oliver murmured. He smiled at him, remembering the mockery that turned nasty when they faced each other on the Quidditch pitch. “It was only a few minutes ago, that the final part of this case fell into place. There were two things immediately wrong with the murder scene. The engagement ring was missing, and a cigarette end was found by the body. I took the liberty of purloining a cigarette from Daphne and discovered it was the same brand. Again, that appeared to put Daphne at the scene of the crime when the murder was being committed.”
“Except I told you I wasn’t smoking when I discovered her,” Daphne said indignantly.
“Mmm, but you also told me that you smoked at times of stress. What could be more stressful than murdering your accomplice and nearly getting discovered?”
“Oh please, Wood, do you honestly think I’d murder someone then take the time to light a cigarette. I’m not that bloody stressed.”
“It’s your brand, Daphne,” he murmured.
“No, it’s not!” she exclaimed, “I told you I’ve been trying to quit. I bummed these last ones from Marcus.”
“Shut up!” Marcus swore vociferously at her.
“What?” Daphne looked up puzzled. “Darling, you have an alibi. You were with me.”
“Well, not exactly,” Draco interrupted. He leant forwards, his eyes flickering from Marcus to Daphne and then to Oliver. “Daphne said she was waiting for Marcus when Astoria got locked in the trunk, and I heard you talking when Astoria and I were getting changed. Daph, you said Marcus had just left you when you started arguing with me.”
Draco whipped round and threw himself at Marcus. “You bastard! You helped Pansy, didn’t you? You let her in and helped her trap Astoria. WHY?”
“You’re mad!” Marcus spluttered and pushed Draco off him with a huge effort sending him crashing into Goyle.
“Is that what happened with Pansy, Flint?” Oliver demanded. “Did she lose her temper with you? Is that why you killed her?”
“I didn’t!” Flint yelled, but he sounded far less cocky now. “Daphne, tell them I was with you.”
Daphne got to her feet. “You were but ...” Her face paled as she stared at her lover and took a deep breath. “... Marcus joined me late the day we arrived. And he was determined to keep me occupied for at least an hour.”
“The amount of time it takes Polyjuice Potion to wear off,” Oliver murmured, and tried to give her a sympathetic glance. But Daphne was only looking at Flint.
“He let Pansy into the Manor,” Oliver said in a soft voice, aware that everyone in the room was hanging on his every word. “She drank Polyjuice Potion containing your hair, and then forced your sister into the trunk. Once she’d turned back into herself, she drank more of the potion, this time to take the form of Astoria Greengrass.”
“None of this proves anything,” Marcus growled.
“With Narcissa away, and Draco proving intransigent on the subject of borrowing the diamonds,” Oliver continued, “Pansy had to keep up the pretence. She became Astoria for the next three days, waiting for her chance to steal the diamonds. But when Draco found her in his mother’s room that ruined everything.
“You overheard them, didn’t you, Flint? You heard Pansy screeching at Draco. And then something happened, didn’t it? Something that made you realise the game was nearly up.”
“Rubbish!” Flint declared, but he wouldn’t look at Daphne.
“What did you hear Draco shouting?” Oliver asked Daphne. “Why did you rush out and remonstrate with him?”
She frowned as she thought back. “He was screaming that it wasn’t her. I mean I knew Tori had been acting strangely; she’d ignored me since we got here, so I thought it was the same for Draco, but of course it wasn’t Tori, was it?”
“And Marcus must have thought Pansy had changed back,” Oliver said. “He heard Draco’s shouts and then when Draco stormed out, he slipped into the room. An argument ensued, probably when he saw her grab the necklace.” His eyes bored into Flint, mercilessly interrogating him, whilst he prayed to himself that Flint was still as thick as he remembered from Hogwarts. There wasn’t a scrap of evidence against him, except for the cigarette end and a clever lawyer could explain that away. “What was it, Flint? Did you want Pansy to wait for Narcissa, or did you want to leave straight away?”
“The stupid cow tried to cheat me!” Flint exploded. “I told her we should leave. We had the diamonds, and the engagement ring. We could have Apparated away, changed identities and not had to hang around with this bunch of rich tossers a moment longer. But Pansy wouldn’t. She started babbling that it wasn’t right, that the plan wasn’t working and I had to stick around whilst she left. She was going to run off with the loot and leave me with this boring bitch!” He glared at Daphne who stared out of the window, not betraying any emotion except for a slight tremor in her hand as she drained her wine glass.
“You weren’t known for your subtlety at school, Flint, never had any finesse. Pansy was trying to tell you the diamonds weren’t right, that they were fakes and she had no idea where the ring was,” Oliver countered. He raised his wand and with a slow swirl, bound Flint tight with steel twine, taking especial pleasure from the fact that his old adversary winced as the twine cut into his skin. “You killed her for nothing, you bastard.”
With Flint in custody and Pansy dead, the Ministry Law Enforcers were able to conduct a full search of both their properties. Not only did they uncover a stash of unfenced jewellery, but they also found a large cauldron of Polyjuice Potion in Pansy’s cellar. The operation had been running a while, and the theft of the Black diamonds was supposed to be their last heist. Marcus’ relationship with Daphne had provided the ideal way in.
Oliver hadn’t seen Daphne since that night. He’d tried to speak to her before taking Flint to the cells, but she’d Apparated away, a look of cold fury on her face, and he hadn’t been sure how much of her rage was directed at him.
On further examination, Narcissa Malfoy’s ‘retreat’ had turned out to be an exclusive health farm. The post-Battle years had not treated Narcissa kindly, and with the threat of a glamorous daughter-in-law about to be enveloped in the fold, Narcissa had wanted to look her best. Now slimmed down, toned up, and with a face lifted into oblivion, she could face the papers, but was still overshadowed by Astoria.
It had been a month since Pansy Parkinson’s death. Her funeral had been ill attended, but Oliver had lurked in the background wondering if Daphne would appear. He’d had stared at Pansy’s headstone. It bore no words of remembrance, no celebration of her life, for she’d always be known as the girl who denounced Harry Potter.
Daphne had not turned up. The Prophet had reported that she’d gone abroad, leaving the wedding preparations to Astoria and her mother, whilst Narcissa pretended to supervise. Oliver had been surprised at the disappointment he’d felt that the paper had been correct.
The wedding was the next day. Astoria’s obvious joy shone from the pages of every paper and magazine, but he wondered sourly if the papers would be quite so gushing if they knew a ‘honeymoon baby’ was already on the way.
Throwing the paper in the waste paper basket, Oliver summoned his cloak ready to leave for his barren flat.
“May I come in?”
She was standing in the doorway, her cloak over her arm. He felt his insides squirm, and unsure it was out of pleasure or fear, he smiled faintly at her.
“Of course, Miss Greengrass.”
“It was Daphne the last time we spoke,” she replied as she stepped towards him.
“That was before I sent your lover to Azkaban.”
“Yes, damn you-” She stopped as her voice broke and for one awful moment, Oliver thought she was going to cry. But he should have known better. Daphne Greengrass was not a weeper and wailer. She was made of stronger stuff.
“At school I envied Pansy,” she said at last. “She always had the best clothes and so many boyfriends. For a while I wanted to be just like her.”
“What changed?”
She smiled. “She discovered I had a crush on someone, and was unrelentingly cruel. He wasn’t a Slytherin, so he wasn’t good enough. It took me years to discover she was wrong.”
“Let me guess,” he replied, injecting a teasing note he didn’t quite feel, into his voice. “All the girls liked Diggory, or perhaps it was Harry?”
“It was you, you tosser!” she replied scathingly. “Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Keeper, then fully fledged pro. I told you, I wasn’t the same as the other girls.”
The last time he’d blushed had been when he’d won the Quidditch Cup and Professor McGonagall had been extremely fulsome in her praise. Yet he recognised the sensation and tried to look away as he willed his hot cheeks to cool.
“Merlin, Oliver, say something will you? I’m practically offering myself up on a plate here.” Then, as he failed to answer, Daphne sighed and turned to leave. “I thought there was a connection between us, a spark that I found intriguing. Sorry, I forgot. I’m not as beautiful as Astoria. It’s the Zeitgeist Girl you’re interested in, after a-”
His mouth stopped her words. His lips teased and caressed hers, until she stopped her faint struggles of surprise and wrapped her arms around him. It had been a long time “ far too long “ since he’d felt this way about anyone, but Daphne Greengrass had wormed her way into his psyche and he wasn’t about to let her slip away.
“I told you once that I’m not interested in labels,” he muttered and started to kiss her again.