Liberation PV - Gryffindor Main Story

Pericles himself was not entirely aware of why he had been invited. Perhaps he looked the sort to be interested in investigation (which was absolutely accurate). He seemed to suit the stereotypes of his House, with his bookish tidiness and the trio of notebooks he arrived with, a set of sleepy silver eyes glancing about behind spectacles. When he spied Piérre Marchonné, the Gryffindor who had generously extended an invitation, he gravitated towards the left side of the classroom and- if he caught the other boy's eye- would offer a grateful smile along with a small wave. The young wizard situated himself in a seat one row from the front, not wanting to seem too eager, yet irrefutably intrigued all the same. Blue-hemmed robes denoted his House. He did not have the excuse of Griffindor pride, nor had he been present for the initial discoveries. He had not attended out of admiration for the famous Harry Potter or a deep distrust of the Ministry. Pericles had come because there was a mystery afoot, a riddle to be solved, and his curious nature prevented him from turning his back on such a strange opportunity.

His mute arrival was not one of shyness. Rather, he filed in and took his seat, acting as if attending an actual class: respectfully silent and open to learning. A classroom was a comfortable setting for the Ravenclaw. Social clashes, however, were not. The brief dressing down which their organizer Evelyn gave the other Gryffindor girl had him averting his eyes awkwardly, staring down at his books as if pretending he was not present until the unpleasantness ended. Once Jo and Rafael introduced themselves, Peri peered up again, still mute yet crackling with wonder over what evidence they may have. He began to ready a quill and open his texts. One was an empty notepad for scrawling down information, the next a short biography on Potter himself, the third a drawing of columns intended as lists for important information concerning the two people of prominence: the victim and [supposed] murderer.

Pericles jotted down the three names as information was presented: Marion Davenport (Slytherin), Victor Moore (Slytherin), Vladimir something (Ravenclaw). As much as he wished he could provide a surname for the latter, evidently his Housemate, the lad was not necessarily socially adept. He did not know many other students, and his capacity for retaining random obscure factoids had taken up some of the space required for remembering names. "I've read about Harry Potter's wand." Speak of the devil, here came one such fact just now. He recited with a glance at his notes, "Holly with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches, supple. But how would a wizard lose his wand...?" Peri spoke simply, his voice a light and easy cadence, casual as if speculating on some story rather than a dire case of life or death. "And if the Ministry was investigating a murder, one would think they would be searching for the key piece of evidence: the weapon. Unless they weren't interested in the truth, or he hid it intentionally, or it was stolen. But where? Or who?" And above all, though he hardly needed to ask it, why? So many speculations, so little time. The Ravenclaw remained eager to understand.

^Summary
Pericles attended out of curiosity and a love of investigation. He sat on the left side of the classroom, greeted Pierre, cringed at the short clash between Evelyn and Snow, then looked interested in what Jo and Rafael had brought. He wrote down the names of the suspicious students involved and commented on Harry Potter's wand type, wondering how it was lost and why the Ministry hadn't found it, unless it was purposely hidden or stolen. He has forgotten, or decided against, introducing himself.

Regina had, and would always harbor a secret admiration for the famous - though, perhaps for now more infamous than not - Harry Potter. He whom had proven time and time again, over the course of seven years, that he was a wizard with a heart of gold, a great sense of justice and an incredible limitless amount of magical potential, going as far as to personally see to it himself that the dreaded Dark Lord who had caused so much grief and misery to the innocent meet his ultimate doom during the Battle of Hogwarts, thus becoming the invincible Hero of the Wizarding World. 

Harry Potter was, in more ways than one, a role model for many young aspiring wizards and witches, including Regina herself. Longing to meet the impossibly high-expectations of her strict and distant Father, the young noble looked up to the Boy Who Lived and dreamt of one day becoming a powerful Auror just as he did, following her ambitions and finally obtain her family's recognition, honoring the Miller name.

However, she had been absolutely distraught when the news of Dolores Umbridge's murder and Potter's conviction made their appearance on the Daily Prophet. She was all the more so when it had begun to be the subject of every conversation around Hogwarts, and most certainly around Wizarding World. Though she had always been calm and stoic in front of the most outrageous situations, this was a one-time exception when Regina rarely allowed herself to show raw emotions: shock, disbelief, mistrust, anger. 

She refused to believe that Harry Potter was a murderer. She refused to let the Hero face injustice and spend the rest of his life rotting away within the depths of Azkaban.

Which was the sole and evident reason why she had made this decision to join the Liberation Club and contribute to the investigation to the best of her abilities. Staying true to her unforthcoming and reclusive personality, Regina chose a seat at the far back to the right, only acknowledging her fellow Gryffindors with a curt nod. She shot a glance at the out-of-place Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw, her sharp orchird purple eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. She was sure that this makeshift club was supposed to house only Gryffindors, but she nonetheless chose not to comment on their presence. She quietly observed the interactions between the members, waiting to see if any consequential information was obtained.

The raven-haired witch had spent countless of hours doing a little bit of research on her own, searching through any newspapers and reading any witness testimonies she could get her hands on to find anything that might be useful before attending this meeting. She had most of the important particulars and details carefully written down in a spare parchment, keeping it folded and safely stored away in the pocket of her robe. Regina's head perked up when the mention of Potter's wand reached her ears. 

A lack of weapon. How peculiar. It would seem as though there is a flaw in the investigation conducted by the Ministry officials, or they just deliberately left out the most crucial evidence.

Several thoughts and suspicion flooded Regina's mind at once. The first deduction that came to mind was that the true culprit had stolen Potter's wand to dispose it and leave no trail behind, or they had hidden it somewhere within the castle, hoping no one would ever find it. The only answer to why was most likely because it could be the very element into proving the wrongly accused wizard to be completely innocent. Whoever the true murderer was, they wanted Potter to be judged for the crime and they would go to far lengths as to make sure his name could not be cleared.  

And then there was also the issue of the three students who behaved rather suspiciously after the Trial. Two Slytherins, Marion Davenport and Victor Moore. and a Ravenclaw, Vladimir...something. The young noble made a mental note to ask her only close friend, who was from the same House as the last mentioned student, for a potential last name and to perhaps keep a close eye on him, if possible. This investigation was finally beginning to move forward. One step closer to Harry Potter's eventual release, dared she believe.

Now then...If I was a murderer trying to frame someone else for the crime and trying to dispose of a wand which was the key evidence, where would I hide it?

Interacting with @Solomon Lear, @Jo Morgan, @Pericles Dralt, @Regina Miller, @Piérre Marchonné, @Rafael D'Spacito, @Snow Jones, @Teiki Laurent, @Logan Baird and @Lamik Fillestar

Although a glance to her watch had indicated it was past time to get things started. Evelynn didn't mind, however. It was the first gathering, so there was bound to be a few stragglers as on-the-fence students made their last minute decisions whether or not to come, or others attempted to find their way to this often little-used classroom.

It wasn't long before her judgment had paid off. While a few of the students muttered amongst themselves, and others waited in patient silence, the minutes ticked by, and a little after nine entered someone she recognized from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Lamik. As he wandered to find a corner to stand in, she tried to offer him an acknowledging smile, although she couldn't be certain if he'd seen her. He wasn't the only student that she had failed to properly greet. A few others ─ including what appeared to be a younger Ravenclaw student and one of the more reclusive girls in her own dorm ─ had snuck in between the cracks of her social interactions.

"Well..." Evelynn spoke up from near the front of the class, glancing back down at the mechanical watch on her right wrist. "I suppose we've given stragglers enough time by now..." She gestured to Jo. "You still up for writing?"

As her dorm-mate, Jo, made her way up to the front, Evelynn shifted her attention to the class proper, surveying those gathered. Admittedly, she felt a little awkward being up front with so many eyes upon her. It wasn't that she was antisocial. Nor even introverted. But she didn't generally seek to be the center of attention, and in a way, part of her felt a little reviled for fulfilling ─ however briefly this would be ─ the typical Gryffindor stereotype.

"Well…I'm not really sure how to start this off, but... thanks for coming." She offered them all, yes even Logan, a warm smile and side-stepped to the front desk to sit on it, legs dangling over the edge to face the rest of them. "As you can see..." She continued, glancing briefly over her shoulder towards the blackboard before returning forward, "this is the Liberation Club. Not my first choice of a name," she admitted with a shrug of her brow and a laugh, "but someone suggested it, and it sort of stuck, so there we go."

She laughed, shrugging slightly before continuing.

"If I'm not mistaken ─ since I'm pretty sure Piérre is the only one who has somehow smuggled robes from the other Houses into his trunk to masquerade as a non-Gryffindor ─ we've got a couple Hufflepuffs and even a Ravenclaw!" Despite her initial surprise at having seen them, her tone could only be described as chipper. "That's excellent! Not sure if you know exactly what this is all about though, so I'll give a little bit of a summary."

Knowing she was about to get into a bit of a spiel, she took a brief moment to get comfortable, adjusting her weight to sit more properly on the desk. Legs crossing at her ankles and hands dropping to fold one over the other upon her lap, she continued.

"Harry Potter has been found guilty by the Ministry of Magic for the murder of Dolores Umbridge. We've known that much ever since that Daily Prophet article last month. Most don't agree with it, it seems, and think that the Ministry have it wrong. Since the investigation was all under lock and key, we can't know for sure, though. What we do know, though, is that something doesn't seem right.

"As I'm sure you've all heard by now, last month, some of us stumbled onto some interesting finds in the Gryffindor common room: tapestries that were more than they appeared, confirmation of Mr. Potter's whereabouts on the night he was detained, hints of what he was looking for, etcetera.

"But this is far from the first strange thing to happen. There have been a few unusual occurrences in the school lately. First, of course was the events of the masquerade ball. Professor Lear also seems to be missing, since nobody has seen sight or scent of him for over a month. It begs the question of what other strange things are happening, and whether these are connected in any way.

"That's why we're here, although the name might be a bit misleading. But, point is, there's something weird going on, and I think we're in a unique position to be able to solve at least some of it."

She paused there for a moment to put her thoughts in order before continuing.

"So…I think the biggest question is…" And here she glanced to Jo giving the signal to start writing. "What actually happened on the night of Mr. Potter's arrest? Already, we have a few bits of information. Of the top of my head, there are several key findings from the common room. One, the tapestries of smell, sound, taste, sight, and touch changed in appearance when illuminated by the Green-Sparks Charm. All of them, except desire.

"Two, according to the portraits, the paper lied about the existence of guest quarters, and instead, Mr. Potter slept in the common room the whole time. Which in part, leads me to wonder if he was actually already sleeping when he arrived in the common room, now that I think about it. Might have to ask them for more details…

"Three, there are several hours of events unaccounted for between when Mrs. Umbridge was supposedly murdered in the Headmaster's office, and when Mr. Potter was arrested in the common room. The portraits in the office would have been helpful, but from what I hear, they've gone missing, too.

"Four, like one of the girls pointed out, the article wasn't on the first page. It was on the fourth! Why on the fourth! That's headline news if ever any of us has seen it, right? That's odd. There must be a reason why for that.

"Five, the portrait of Miss Minerva said Mr. Potter's reason for being here was a secret. But eventually, she admitted that he was here with his partner, Vancleaf, seeking the glove and the mask. This was also tied to the events of a Ben… something. I don't know much about it, but Aurelia said they were dark objects. That the glove could control anyone wearing the mask, and this Ben -- must be a student -- was said to have been under its control. If we can find him, he might be able to give us more information. Also, VanCleaf never entered the common room, but stayed outside of it and was apologizing a lot, as though he were guilty. The whereabouts of the mask and glove are still unknown as far as I know, though.

"Six, apparently Professor Lear was "troubled" by Mr. Potter's ordeal and took great care to guard his secrets, according to Miss Minerva. But she was very adamant not to elaborate, saying that politics among wizards are tricky and that some secrets are best kept hidden. I dunno about you, but that makes it seem like this is definitely worth looking into if possible.

"Seven, now the one absolute reason I know something is… off… is that the portraits are still there. If this was to be properly covered up, they should have been taken like the ones in the headmaster's office. But they're not. They gave us a lot of information, too. There is definitely something strange going on. Like someone wanted us to find this all out. I don't know if that's to help Mr. Potter, or to cause harm… but Miss Minerva did tell us that Professor Lear enchanted the tapestries over a year ago, the week he was named Headmaster, and that they have been untouched since then.

"Eight, according to the article, there were witnesses, but they had been protected and unnamed so we weren't able to pursue that line of thought." Once again, she paused, and this time with a very triumphant gleam in her eyes. "I'm happy to say, however, that I overheard a conversation discussing them. I know who they are now. Or at least some of them."

Evelynn then went into great detail about the conversation she had listened to on the sly, providing to the group the names of the Slytherin students who had turned Harry in, as well as that of the Ravenclaw boy who's nature of involvement was unknown, as well as to highlight the fact that Harry's wand had gone "missing".

"So I think we've definitely got some potential leads on finding new information even if we're not able to come up with much in this meeting today. But…" She cast an almost hunger look towards the rucksack that Rafael had brought in. "I'm guessing there's more to all of this. So let's get cracking. What do you guys think? What all do you know, what have you found out? I've got a few things to say about the Daily Prophet as well…I've seen some interesting things happening…but I'll wait til later for that."

OOC: Joint post with @Rafael D'Spacito, who will very soon follow up with his post, a continuation of mine.

Jo put the chalk down, and with one swift movement beckoned for Rafa to join her at the blackboard.

Rafa, seeing her beckoning movement, let out a little groan. And he’d just gotten comfortable. Hungry wolves, the lot. Shaking his head and shooting his study mate a dirty look, he reluctantly rose from his seat, grabbing the dirty backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Making sure Greg was safety in his grasp, he walked over to the front of the room, an almost defensive air to his demeanor.

“We went to the Headmaster’s office.” The girl declared to the group. “And we found a lot of really, really weird stuff.”

“Disturbing, really,” Rafa added, rubbing his neck in an awkward way. “To answer your question Evelynn: We found letters - specifically, conversations between Lear and Umbridge. I’m sure you’ll find them informative...” an amused grin slipped to his face, giving Jo a knowing look, “...among other things.”

Stifling a giggle as she glanced towards Rafa, Jo cleared her throat.

“As soon as we got in, we noticed that not only was the lock broken - like the door was kicked in, you know? All of the portraits were gone, most likely because they would have been witnesses to the crime. If we can track down even one of these, it would be a great help - just knowing who removed them would be nice. The sorting hat was gone, too, and there was dust on the chairs like nobody had cleaned the office in a while, even though all the papers and documents had been cleared from the desks. But while we were there… we got a letter.”

Hesitating, she looked towards the boy. He grimaced in memory of the whole ordeal, but nodded as if willing her to go on.

Firstly, Jo plucked the seal off once more, holding it up to the light.



“The only thing even close to this one that I could find in the library was the Wilkinson coat of arms and the one for Dr. Isaac Rutton of Ashford.”

“Anyway…”

Clearing her throat, she read the letter aloud, lowering her voice slightly to mimic that of a male’s.

“Took long enough for someone to trespass in this office. All of the portraits in my office have been moved to a safe location of my choosing. Keenly aware of your duplicity, I have taken measures to ensure that you would be stopped. Evacuate these premises immediately. Time is of the essence. Obstinate behavior in this matter will not be tolerated. Notice of evacuation is immediate. Ogre release imminent. Requisition for the following: downy powdered Root of Asphodel, a sophorous bean, new phial of infusion of Wormwood, green Valerian root, entire Sloth brain and rinsed vial with a stopper. Allowances will not be made, please leave the requested articles in Hogsmede at Hogs Head.”

She took a breath before continuing.

“I noticed a couple of things about this letter. Firstly, the handwriting matches up with the other, signed letters from the Headmaster. So the possibility of a fake or Polyjuice Headmaster seems unlikely. Still, we can’t rule out the Imperius Curse just yet because of a few discrepancies. Firstly, the real Lear would know we can’t go to Hogsmeade without the Hogwarts Express, or access potion ingredients without a Professor. This is really little, but he also misspells Hogsmeade. It’s possible whoever forced Headmaster Lear to write this letter didn’t know much about Hogwarts or Hogsmeade.” Jo shivered, turning to Rafa. “And the real Headmaster Lear would never set an ogre on his students.” She picked up a piece of chalk and a scratching noise filled the room once more.

Evidence

Letter 1:


Seal on Letter 1:

Continuation of Jo's post. All words have been written and approved by Jo Morgan.

Direct Interactions: @Jo Morgan @Evelynn Decipio [Too many to tag]

[font=Segoe Print]Rafa shot her an amused look. “You know, if you want to portray a masculine air, you could have always asked me to read,” he joked with a raised eyebrow. Turning to the group again, he continued the steady stream of evidence. “We also found that the chimney was full of Pygmy Puff skulls. They’re on the table, if you’d like to see them.” He glanced at Greg tentatively, as if unsure whether to go on. “We.. we found this little guy trying to escape the scene. He’s one of Lear’s - It’s possible that he’s the only witness to the crime itself.”

“A pensieve might be useful if we could locate one.” Jo added helpfully, still scribbling furiously onto the blackboard. “The chimney was covered in ash (weird since the rest of the office was so tidy) - either evidence was burned, or someone used the Floo network. It’s possible that whoever killed Ms. Umbridge used Floo powder to escape undetected. Maybe… if they burned all the evidence, maybe they could have burned Mr. Potter’s wand too? Either way, the Pygmy Puffs probably tried to follow the killer into the fireplace, and gotten incinerated."

“Think I should mention,” Rafa added a bit tentatively, “that the letters we found were quite eye-opening.” He was grinning widely now, his humored demeanor showing for the entire room to see. “You see, well, Lear and Umbridge.. They were….” he swallowed down his amusement for a second, trying to portray the seriousness of the situation. “They were in love.”

At his side, Jo was making a half-hearted attempt to hide her furious giggling.

Though, as a moment passed, Rafa’s grin started to fade. He rubbed his neck at that, the declaration having an awkward taste in his mouth. Granted, he’d only admitted this out loud to one person - and he was an immature eleven-year-old, so it was supposed to be funny, right? Though, the more he thought about it, the more his nasty, pooling feeling began to grow in his stomach. In fact, the mere idea of their valiant Headmaster ever falling for such an evil woman seemed to drain all the humor out of the situation. Shaking his head, he tried not to dwell on these feelings, opting to continue. “Anyways. That, combined with the order for the Draught of Living Death… The whole situation just seems too Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“We found another letter in the compartment.” Jo continued seamlessly. Instead of reading the note aloud, however, she chose to write it on the board. [/font]

Dolores,

RAW DOOLB LIVE
GAH

Solomon

[font=Segoe Print]“It doesn’t make any sense… until you read it backwards.”

She scrawled the message once more - but reversed this time. [/font]

EVIL BLOOD WAR. HAG.

[font=Segoe Print]Rafa waited for a moment before speaking again. It was about then that he realized how fast they were forcing this new information upon the small group. It was almost rude, dropping such heavy bombs, and moving on without another thought. He didn’t care much for others’ feelings, sure, but it would do him no good to make enemies here. Not when they were all banding together to liberate an innocent man. “On that bright note,” he muttered sarcastically, at least trying to lighten the situation.

“One more thing!” Jo pivoted on her toes to face the group of students as she loudly addressed them. “Some of the letters on the threat letter are embellished. They spell out ‘Take to Nora.’ Professor Price thinks it means to take the letters to Professor Hjordis Nora Jensen. I tried to owl her to see if we could talk, but haven’t gotten a response back yet.”[/font]

The kids were onto something. This clubhouse, a repository for their combined intellect and findings. They had learned that Potter's wand was indeed missing and ironically enough, many of them spent a great portion of their day in rather close proximity to the wand's hiding place. The tapestries were telling. The portraits missing from Professor Lear's office and the reluctant paintings in the Gryffindor common room told a story but it was an unpleasant one. 

The kids caught onto a few inconsistencies in the letters. There were several hidden messages, they caught onto a few. It was not enough to tell them everything. But it was enough to warn them of some of the dangers that they faced. They got a few details wrong, but in time the pieces would come together and they would ultimately evaluate the data they had uncovered under a new light.

The most important truth right now was the fact that they had a chance to collaborate, add a few additional minds to the mix. Perhaps the truth was: Solomon was passionately in love with Dolores. Gross old people sort of love. She was killed and Solomon was trying to bring her murderer to justice incredibly slowly. Did not really satisfy some of the inconsistencies. Perhaps Solomon killed her. He did not seem like the jealous type and what could he possibly be jealous of? There was something incredibly weird going on between them, maybe even weirder than love. 

In addition, they learned that there were actual witnesses. Real students and they had names. They just needed to find them. All three of them. [These are real accounts with recent posts]

Elliot sat behind his desk, a feeling of dread too deep to shake coursed through his veins. In front of him sat two copies of the Daily Prophet, a letter from the Headmaster’s office and one tiny animal skull. Ever since young Jo Morgan had burst through his door and taken him to the abandoned office of Solomon Lear, things were starting to slowly come together. What once had seemed like random tragic events now all smelled of conspiracy. 

It would be early this morning when he would overhear the pair of House Elves chatting away as they cleaned the Potions classroom. They spoke of a group of Gryffindors and an empty classroom. How posters had been hung to advertise a new club set on gathering evidence about the Harry Potter trial. Liberation they called it. The words had turned Elliot’s blood to ice. Did they see what he saw? Did the fear that tore through Elliot’s guts flow through them as well? It all felt too familiar.  The societal discourse, the divide that split their community, the anger and hatred. First people argue and protest. Then they begin to fight, people get hurt, people start to go missing, then they start to die. As his long, slender fingers traced the scars that ran down his face, he knew he had to act. It all reeked of war.

A short time had passed and Elliot now roamed the hallways, searching the empty classrooms for any sign of a gathering. When he reached the 200’s a soft murmur of voices caught his ear. As his long legs quickly followed the sound, he would soon find himself standing before classroom 218, but would pause for a moment before entering, his hand hovering above the handle. It should have filled him with joy. The youngsters that would make the next generation of witches and wizards had assembled for the greater good. Determined to put their minds together for the sake of justice. They should be living carefree. They should be outside laughing in the snow or practicing Quidditch or crying over a spoiled relationship. The sacrifices of those before them should have secured a safe and prosperous future for them, but Elliot knew too well that evil never died. That every generation had to face their great struggle. That the innocence of childhood can’t last forever. With a deep breath, he turned the handle and entered the classroom. 

Before him stood a group of maybe 10 or so students, some of the faces more recognizable than others. They had already begun to compile evidence as he eyed a chalk board full of notes. “Hello..” Elliot said in a muted tone. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Hello students. It’s come to my attention that you were gathered here today. I have some information that I need to share with you.”

Permission granted by Jo and Rafa to look at the love letter.

As facts were aligned, occurrences recounted, notes compiled upon the board, Pericles sat in a sort of trance. He was in awe of the proceedings, stricken by the depth of this ripe mystery. The nature of it all- from a missing Headmaster to wrongfully accused hero- was truly terrible. But the boy was deeply enamored with mystery. For all of his (albeit very short) life, he had striven to develop a knack for investigation. If he meant to be an auror someday, he would need to be a solid investigator. What better way to practice than with an actual investigation? He hurriedly copied down many of the notes written on the board. The evidence which Jo and Rafael provided was like gold to him, like true treasures. But something about their account did not sit quite right with him. He raised his hand politely, as one does in class. Regardless of any snickers it may have earned him, his gentle, sleepy sort of voice carried to the front. "You mentioned that the Headmaster and the victim were in love, yes...?" He had seen Lear during his Sorting: a dragon of a man, with his golden armor, his weathered face wrought with years of adventure and triumph. What would he see in an acquitted Azkaban prisoner like Umbridge? "Why?" It was because of a letter. "May I see it, please?" The Ravenclaw rose from his seat and strode to the front.

In his first few seconds of reading, a shade of concern crossed the young lad's freckled face. It grew into disturbance, then he froze, rigid, and his eyes flicked back to the start to slowly reread once more. Those silvers went wide and sparked with something wild. On the third reread, Pericles tore through the words with the voraciousness of a teenage girl poring over a romance novel. Only, it wasn't the romantic aspects of the letter which managed to intrigue him. He mouthed a letter here then there, and at long last, slowly peered up again. He looked between Jo, Rafael, and Evelynn with gently arched eyebrows and bright owlish eyes. "Excuse me," he interjected gently, "but I don't think this is a love letter." Lifting it delicately by the edges, turning towards the "class", the young Ravenclaw read it aloud:

4.4.24

Doloreδ,
I just wanted to remind you tλat you arε a ωonderful, beαutiful woman. I know that I do not tell you that as often as I δhould. You are now chasing your drea^^s and making up for lost time. I am so proυd of youΓ har∂ work. You dεserve to be happy, as happy as you have Γεally ma∂e me. It is amazing to watch you work your way βack into the Ministrγ and to prove to everyone that you have been trans∫ormed. ! kηow that you have ηo p1acε to go, please come to Hogwarts and find securitγ in our stone walls and my strong arms.

Headmaster Lear

The gut-churning, stomach-curdling, nose-wrinkling prospect of Headmaster Lear loving an absolute toad like Dolores was already awkward enough. Hearing those words read off by a young boy in a calm matter-of-fact cadence made the matter exponentially weirder. But at the end, he turned the letter towards the class, insisting loud enough for his voice to carry: "It sounds like a love letter, but it isn't meant for her. It's a code, you see. The odd 's', here, and the weird 'h'... if you place all the unusual characters side by side, it spells a sentence. I don't know what that date could mean, 'April Fourth, year Twenty-Four' hasn't happened yet." The door opened. He ignored it. His eyes were gleaming, voice coming more grounded than usual, sparked with inspiration. "But the letters spell the sentence she was murdered by Finnley. Does anyone know a...." It was not some late arrival whom had entered the door, and Pericles was only just noting it, his declaration cut short by that muted hello.

The boy's jaw dropped. Words escaped him, as did the thrill of chasing a mystery. He was already a pale person, with a colorlessness that implied some breed of albinism, yet now he became paler- white as a sheet, white as a corpse. Professor Price was not an unkind mentor. Pericles admired him from a distance in Potions, but he never spoke to him, never raised his hand. It was no fault of the teacher. Rather, the home-schooled lad simply had no idea how to interact with adult authority figures. So he settled for staring at the professor in abject terror. He looked as though he might dive under a table, were it not for the frozen state which held him to the spot.

^Summary
Pericles is inwardly impressed and enthusiastic about the compilation of facts and clues. He requests proof of Lear and Umbridge's relationship from Jo and Rafa. He reads the beautiful love letter to the class before picking up a code, pointing out that the oddly-written letters spell "She was murdered by Finnley". He wonders over the weird date 4.4.24, but has no idea what it means, or who Finnley might be. Lastly, is mortified by the entrance of a teacher.

She watched others come into the classroom, waving at the other Hufflepuff that sat near her. Soon, others walked in, more Gryffindors. She listened, her head tilted upon hearing of their mini-investigation. She hadn't realized that that was going on, although admittedly, it made sense considering the severity of what was going on, outside and inside the campus of Hogwarts.

She smiled back at Evelynn, glad that she accepted a few members of other houses into the Gryffindor ranks. Considering the turn out, it appeared that they might need the help. Or not- they could probably figure it out with just a few intelligent and determined teens. But, new perspectives certainly helped from time to time.

As the meeting started to inch into its true meaning, a few others came, but it seemed they had found their group. She glanced around at the others, before listening to the observations brought before the "class." It was interesting that Hogwarts students would turn him in... although she found it a little peculiar that none of them were Gryffindors. She noted it, but kept silent for now. They're wasn't anything that could be said against the other houses currently.

As Evelynn spoke, Teiki wrote a few notes of her own, watching the board sometimes to see if she had missed anything. The Gryffindor seemed to have the meeting under control, and knew a lot about the case. She was surprised at first, but considering that another had a bag of evidence- well, she supposed it seemed almost normal in comparison.

No wand, Marion Davenport, Victor Moore, Vladimir [?]
1. No/entirely desire? Did someone charm it like that? Who? Before/After Harry Potter Mystery?
2. Potraits still there... would they hold loyalty towards Potter? 3 students v. Portraits
3. Many hours... enough time to plot... Polyjuice Potion? Odd conclusion, but... potions stolen from Yaxley Family
3.1. Poisonings have to do with trial? Who were victims of poisoning? Specific traits/loyalties?
3.2. What's SCARs position on trial? Non existant?
4. Doesn't want to be noticed? Daily Prophet's stand on trial?
5. Glove & Mask... Dark objects... would SCAR/others want it? Who?
6. Troubled by ordeal? Knew more than the rest/simply loyal?
7. Portraits in Gryffindor still there, but not in Headmaster's office
Headmaster office is important, nothing important happened in Gryffindor? Can portraits lie? Would they?
8. Witnesses, to both sides or to just one?

Other odd occurrences: Ilvermorny, Half giants, Masquerade Ball, Headmaster gone

Her seat more towards the back didn't allow her to get a good view of the seal, but it probably didn't matter. Teiki knew very little about the different types of seals, and certainly didn't have books that could help. At least, not that she knew of.

She listened along, noting the ingredients. Maybe the others would know what potion those ingredients could be used in, if they hadn't figured it out already. Plus, they could always ask the Potions Professor. A quick glance up at the board told her the information she was looking for. She also noted that they suspected it was forced. And the fact that the person who forced them didn't seem to know about Hogsmeade. She silently scribbled around the word, "Ilvermorny", although nothing was clear. Just lots and lots of guesses.

The two continued, talking about how two of the three letters had code. She was about to ask about the "love letter", but the Ravenclaw noted it first. Reading it aloud, she held onto the date, nodding as he found the code. She kept the two pieces of information, the paper starting to be filled with random questions. A lot of it appeared to be jumping to conclusions, but she scrawled a few more things, glancing up when the door opened once more.

"Love Letter"
Odd letters: She was murdered by Finnley
4.4.24
> Code? Future date... or past? 1924? 1824?

It was the Potions Professor. She glanced kindly at him, the sudden realization that he was the only professor here. They had already found quite a bit, although she suspected they had had some help of other student and professors. But still, she would've expected a teacher to have been here the entire time. Her wrist was rest slightly above the paper, ready to take some more notes.

Anyone who wishes to look over her odd notes and observations may, although she would want them back if anything significant comes up (which seems to be somewhat often..).