Title: Murder on the Hogwarts Express

Author: MamaLaz

Summary: One broken down train. One dead body. One million secrets. But which of the passengers is the murderer?

Rating: Hmmm… I’ll say R, just in case someone (coughDracocough) swears :)

Notes: Based very loosely on Agatha Christie’s brilliant Murder on the Orient Express (and no, the murder in this fic is nowhere near the same as the one in the novel!). This is my first proper non-R/D fic. It’s a scary thought but this story actually has a plot so I’m excited, too. Please read! There are twists galore – which I hope you all don’t get. Enjoy :)

Murder on the Hogwarts Express

Prologue

A howl of wind and a swirl of snow hit hard against the windows of the carriage. Candlelight flickered, the occasional teacup rattled and the still train shook slightly with the raging blizzard outside.

Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, who had been limping back and forth in front of the crackling fireplace, suddenly stopped abruptly. Standing in the middle of the spacious carriage, the light of the fire shadowing his already distorted features, the head Auror turned his gnarled, weathered face turned towards his audience. With his glass eye spinning almost sickeningly within his head, his slash of a mouth twisted revoltingly and his normal, beady eye slowly sizing up his prey, he looked, in turn, at each and every one of the thirteen people present.

Harry Potter was sitting on a spindly chair and looking nervous.

Ron Weasley, face going pink, was determinedly trying not to catch Moody’s eye.

Hermione Granger was worrying her lip and darting her gaze erratically to the faces of the other passengers.

Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom briefly looked at one another before looking away.

Ludo Bagman, sitting in the middle of the group and fingering the money pouch hanging off his hip, looked shifty.

Seamus Finnigan, chewing on the inside of his mouth, was twiddling his thumbs.

Lavender Brown, perched on the arm of his seat, was looking breathlessly excited.

Rita Skeeter, Quick Quotes Quill and notepad hovering beside her, was waiting in hungry anticipation.

Pansy Malfoy, seated beside Lavender and pursing her thin lips, was looking at Moody with severe dislike.

Draco Malfoy, who was reclining into his armchair with a lazy type of arrogance, was filing his nails with a strip of hardened boomslang skin and looking bored.

And Stan Shunpike and Ernie Prang, who were seated beside each other, looked rather excited about the whole affair.

Moody continued to stare about him angrily. His disfigured face was full of such disgust and revulsion that it appeared to physically darken his already marred complexion and, after giving each of the thirteen persons a glare and a snarl, he opened his diagonal gash of a mouth to speak.

“There’s a murderer in this room tonight,” he growled, his voice low and abrupt and as rough as sandpaper. “A stinking, cowardly piece of dirt who’s killed in cold blood.”

Leaning upon his long staff, his wooden leg briefly revealed from beneath the folds of his cloak, Moody paused his speech to limp forward a step or two. A series of thuds joined the ticking grandfather clock in the corner as the only noises in the room before he spoke again.

“But the murderer’s not the only guilty party here,” Moody continued in his gruff, harsh voice as his gaze passed across the arc of nervous faces. “Oh no, not by a long shot. I would’ve figured this out a damn sight quicker if you lot weren’t such a gutless pack of liars – oh yes, girlie, even you.”

Lavender, who had opened her mouth to protest, found Moody’s disconcerting magical eye fixed on her. Deflating slightly, her cheeks going pink, she closed her mouth again.

Unhindered by the interruption, Moody continued.

“Now, Lucius Malfoy might have been a worthless piece of Death Eater scum who I feel got exactly what he deserved…” Hermione Granger briefly frowned at Moody “… but murder’s still murder and old Mad Eye’s never failed to solve one before this. And seeing that this homicidal filth hasn’t had the good manners to come clean and confess, I’ve had to spend my own valuable holiday time to uncover the truth.”

Here Moody stopped, looking incredibly put-out.

Harry Potter’s eye twitched.

Rita Skeeter’s Quill almost snapped in its excitement.

Draco Malfoy yawned.

“… Wait, so you know who did it?” Ron Weasley suddenly spoke up.

Moody’s magical eye spun around to look at him, giving Ron an eerily unblinking stare. Moody then let out a horrible smile, which twisted his already lopsided mouth and made his heavily scarred face look even more grotesque and contorted.

“Oh yes, Weasley,” he said softly, both of his eyes fixed on Ron Weasley as the redhead went pale. “I do.”