The Boy Who Lived

Chudley Cannon's Star Keeper

Harry cried-off going to Beaumont Hall on the evening of his birthday, mostly because Pansy had managed to dig up some history from Triple-F's genealogy.

Another team meeting was called and Kingsley made another appearance. Harry didn't fail to notice that Nev perched rather protectively on the edge of the desk that Pansy was sitting at. He smiled to himself.

Pansy nervously told them that she had uncovered that Triple-F's bloodline definitely ran back to the old Pureblood Finches line. They were one of the considerably wealthier Sacred Twenty-Eight families, unfortunately, the bloodline died out in the 1900s when Tarquin Finches' only child was a Squib. Turned out, Tarquin Finches was Triple-F's Great-Great-Grandfather and Triple-F was the first in four generations to inherit the magic of his ancient bloodline. Pansy pushed a piece of paper across the desk to Neville who smiled reassuringly at her before reading aloud: 'Although they did not align themselves with Voldemort, the Finches had a long history of Pureblood mania that continued through the Squib line too. The family has only associated itself with the upper-classes on British society in both the Muggle and the Magical World. Justin's boast at school that he had his name down to go to Eton exemplifies this privileged upbringing, Eton College for Boys in Windsor, London, is the school favoured by British royalty, landed gentry and aristocracy, conservative politicians, and the upper-classes. Since returning the Wizarding World, Justin Jnr had been attending certain Pureblood fanatical meetings over the past four years since the Battle of Hogwarts.'

'And we're only just finding this out now?' said Robards.

'We've only just got a dedicated Researcher for the Department,' Harry snapped.

'Point taken,' said Robards contritely.

There was silence in the meeting room as everyone digested the information and what it meant for the investigation.

It was after some careful deliberation that Hermione spoke up, 'I think it might be worth considering whether Triple-F is trying to raise sympathy for the victims in a kind of reverse psychology kind of way. It may be that by using half-bloods and Muggleborns to do his dirty work, he thinks people will start to frown upon their tactics and side with Purebloods, thus creating fractions and potentially another war in the long run. Of course, disreputable families from Voldemort's inner circle would be more expendable here. I was wondering, with the Minister's permission, if I might be temporarily seconded to the case, I think, if I look through the newspaper archives, we may find press 'releases' as such that relate to the incidents. If they portray the attacks in a consistent way that's sympathetic to victims then it may give us the answer to that question.'

Kingsley nodded.

'Ah,' said Bill, 'I can help there too, I did notice that there were several payments from the Dombey account to The Daily Prophet and one to The Wizard's Voice. I wondered why. It would make sense if what you're saying is accurate, Hermione.'

Pansy tentatively raised a hand. 'I have something else,' she said quietly. 'I spoke to Hugh Rambures in the Department of Mysteries, I wondered if there were any prophecies... and apparently so. Normally we wouldn't be able to access it but Justin requested access a few years ago so the Prophecy is recorded as read. It said: Pureness will only be delivered by the flame which his own hand creates; death lies in the hands of a saviour.'

Harry frowned, 'why do they always have to sound so fucking biblical, bloody implied cleansing by fire...' There were a few confused faces but he didn't bother to explain. Of course, the reference to a 'saviour' wasn't lost on him either and, with Mione's point in mind, it was clear that Justin saw himself as some sort of Saviour-figure, cleansing the Wizarding World of those that tarnished the good name of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and Wizard-kind. He mentally growled to himself, surely, he thought, surely the few seers that existed could avoid the term, he hated it and the implications, but he supposed it was some sort of poetic licence gifted to true seers, that and the fact that these obscure prophecies never quite made sense until after the event.