"Why did you suggest that Miss Parkinson take a love potion?"
Nott gave a slight shrug, his face taking on more expression, though not much. "I-- we needed a way to get Malfoy out of the dungeons if we were going to be able to deliver him to his father. He kept writing to her... It seemed like he cared enough about her to take a risk. Pansy wanted to Floo him a letter saying to meet her outside Snape's rooms. But she thought the wards on the Floo might read her true intentions and alert him not to meet her. So I said we could potion her to fall in love with him before she wrote the letter. So the letter would slip through. And she agreed."
Harry thought of how convinced Draco had been that Pansy truly loved him, and suddenly understood.
Snape obviously did, too. "Why did you never give her the antidote?"
Nott smiled, the expression self-satisfied. "She talked about him non-stop. She mooned over him and carried his letters around with her and practically worshiped the jewellery he'd sent her for Yuletide. The potion I used had a memory charm mixed in, so she forgot completely that Malfoy would get killed if he met her." Nott smiled. "She was perfect for luring him out. Well, obviously. He came, didn't he? My guess is, he still thinks she really did love him."
Hermione gasped again, that time yanking up one hand to cover her mouth before Snape could rebuke her.
The Potions Master took a moment to consider all that. "At what point did you resolve to kill Miss Parkinson?"
"From the start."
"Your reasons?"
"Who better? Malfoy had a motive to kill her. Besides, I'd-- we'd promised Pansy that she could kill him. She'd have been angry afterwards that we Portkeyed him to his father instead. She might have said something. It was better all around to kill her."
"But the Portkey didn't work, you said. What went wrong?"
"That bloody amulet, that's what went wrong," Nott said, moving awkwardly as though trying to shift his non-existent legs. "I'd-- we'd felt its warmth the whole time we were dragging Malfoy up to the Owlery, but when we tried to use the Portkey the amulet started blazing red-hot. Magic began pouring from it. Green waves of magic. And the Portkey went dead."
"So you determined to take Draco out to the Apparition boundary. What was your plan?"
"To Apparate him to Malfoy Manor where his father was waiting."
Snape's voice dropped an octave, his drawl becoming more pronounced. "Can you already Apparate, Mr. Nott? As I recall, you've yet to even attempt the Ministry test."
"I can't get the hang of it," muttered Nott.
"Then how were you going to Apparate Draco Malfoy anywhere?"
"I... we... I..." Nott began gasping for air again, actually raising his hands to his throat and clawing his own skin as he struggled.
Snape stared at him for a long moment. "Your confederates are proficient at Apparition, though. Aren't they, Mr. Nott? Seventh-year students, I expect?"
Nott fell to his back and began to thrash for air.
"Ah...." Snape nodded to himself, the motion so slight it was barely perceptible. "I see. Something else then, Mr. Nott. What happened to the protective wards on the Owlery?"
Nott heaved in a huge breath, sounding exactly like someone who'd broken the surface after being trapped underwater as he struggled back into a sitting position. "Mr. Malfoy disabled them. He went into the Owlery earlier that day and took them down. He said that as a governor, he could do it and nobody would be able to tell. And if anyone saw he'd been in the Owlery, well... he has a perfect right to wander the school."
Snape nodded as though that confirmed longstanding suspicions. "After the Portkey failed, why did you leave Draco Malfoy out on the grounds instead of continuing with him past the Apparition boundary?"
"I-- we got word that Pansy's body had been spotted. And we realised it would only be seconds later until the grounds would be start to be searched. By hand, as well as with the map. And with that amulet still pouring out magic, our feather-light charms weren't working. Nothing magical was working."
Snape sucked in a low, harsh breath, his hands clenching as he sat there, but when his voice emerged it was calm and level. "Tell me about this map."
"It's a magic map. Mr. Malfoy said we had to be sure to fool it."
"So you were the one who arranged for the map to make it appear that Draco Malfoy had murdered Miss Parkinson," said Snape, and not in the tone of a question.
Hermione and Ron exchanged a confused glance. Then both of them stared at Harry as though to ask, something you forgot to tell us, mate?
Harry smiled sheepishly back.
Ron snorted slightly. Hermione just looked disapproving that Harry had kept a secret like that from his friends.
"Mr. Malfoy arranged it," said Nott.
"How?" barked Snape.
"Lucius Malfoy knew of the map. Crouch had it during the Tournament, took it from Harry Potter. Then it went missing. Mr. told us that Dumbledore had probably taken it from Crouch. He said the map showed every person inside Hogwarts, and nobody would believe Draco had pushed Pansy unless the map made it look that way. He said to make it so Draco's hexed body would shove Pansy's out the window."
Harry couldn't help himself, then. "Lucius believed Dumbledore was going to be looking at the map at the exact instant when the murder took place?"
"Crouch and Mr. Malfoy didn't have enough time with the map. They thought there might be a way to make it show the past and if so, Dumbledore would know how. So it had to show Draco committing the murder."
"And not show you up in the Owlery with him," Snape said. "Why did the map not show you, Mr. Nott?"
"Mr. Malfoy charmed us that morning when he disabled the Owlery wards."
Snape's eyes narrowed still further. "Tell me about this charm."
"Crouch and Mr. Malfoy developed it after Wormtail said James Potter and Sirius Black had tried to develop one--"
Harry clenched the fist on his good hand, wishing for the hundredth time that he hadn't let Wormtail live.
"--the incantation was long," Nott went on. "Latin and French both, I think. And it made us all sick. But that was later. Delayed onset, Mr. Malfoy said. He warned us that might happen."
"Why did this sickness spread to those who hadn't been subjected to the map charm?" Snape looked puzzled, but Nott soon cleared it all up.
"Mr. Malfoy said it would look too suspicious if I-- we, were the only ones to fall ill. So he gave me-- us, a related hex. He said to cast it on the common room door as soon as we'd delivered Draco to him. So that everyone passing in or out for the next day would get just as sick as us. But it wouldn't take them off the map, he said. He said he didn't want it known that he could make the map lie."
Well, that would explain why every Slytherin except Snape, Draco, and Harry had fallen ill, Harry thought. Harry hadn't been to the common room yet, and Draco hadn't been there in months.
And Snape, of course, usually Flooed in rather than use the door.
"Harry, have you any questions?"
Harry didn't hesitate. "How did Lucius Malfoy convince you to go to all this trouble and even put up with a dangerous illness like that?"
Nott sneered. Either the Veritaserum was weakening, or Harry had less sheer presence as an interrogator, for the legless boy wasn't as deferential as he'd been with Snape. "How do you think, Potter? Money. And power. The gratitude of the Dark Lord. They were going to get information from Malfoy. About you. About Snape. About the Dark Mark, and why Snape was still sane when he should have long since lost his mind from resisting the Dark Lord's call."