Jack followed the young girl, piecing what she knew together. Wanda Boardfoot. Her father was Richard Boardfoot. Wanda thought Jack went to school with her. Aha! She mentioned wandmaking, so she was a witch. Perfect. Jack would not have to worry about hiding any magic she did in Wanda's company. Jack took the list in her hand and read it over. Silently, she put her wand to her name and Richard's name- the only people she knew did not commit the murder. She would not be so dense to mark off Wanda either. She was still a suspect. Everyone was.
Jack was busy concentrating on what needed to be done, but Wanda raised a good point about her style of dress. Jack thought back to the date- 1929. In America, the Great Depression would be about to begin, if not already. She considered changing her clothes into a man's. It would win her some favor, because women still did not have quite the same rights as men. But then she would have a problem if anyone reviewed the list. Had it said 'Jack Dyllan' she would be fine. But it said 'Miss Jaquellene Dyllan.' Figures.
She hated dressing up. She had never imagined being challenged like this in the very first task. She glanced at Wanda's dress and pulled out her wand, opening her cloak. She quickly cleaned off the blood on both the cloak and her other clothes, and then transformed her shirt, lengthening it, softening the material, until it was dress of the period. She shortened her pants, turning them into spandex for her own comfort, and then transforming her cloak into a long wool coat, which she buttoned. Her hair was already the correct short style, and "ratted" to fit it.
She groaned. Style had not been mentioned in the announcements.
She turned to Wanda. "Thank you. Everything you have said is very helpful.” She paused... Not really. Jack now had... thirteen suspects. How great it would be to simply told that one of them had had a long rivalry with the girl's father and that it would not at all be surprising that he would attempt to murder him.
But this was a Triwizard task and, for once, the girl who loved a challenge, who faced them without balking, was wishing for a simple solution.
She stared at the list and realized she would never be able to interview every single one of them without going over her time limit. It took police weeks to interview people and come up with conclusions. There was not even definite evidence here. The compartment was slightly disturbed- blankets rumpled- and- AHA!
Jack bent down next to the bed and saw it. A drop of blood on the ground. As she neared closer to the carpet she saw it everywhere. She pulled out her wand and lit the tip of it, following the trail quickly to see that it led out the compartment and almost certainly led to her own- though she did not have the time to follow it. Already, a good deal of time had been spent with the discovery and now with the update from Wanda. It was time to get to business.
The trail of blood was almost enough to convince Jack to go and inform the conductor. However, she knew that the finger would still be pointed at her, regardless of the blood. She had to have something that not only condemned the killer, but also proved her own innocence.
She did not like to admit it, but the latter would be near damn impossible to prove. She had been asleep and alone- that provided absolutely no alibis. She kept herself calm but could feel her heart flutter irregularly slightly in her chest. That left her no choice then. There was only one way to clear her name, and that was by providing someone with the actual murderer.
She stood up and then paused, closing her eyes. She had not enjoyed the moment of fear mingled with panic. Jack did not panic. She adapted. She took a deep breath and remembered the Ministry had organized the tournament, the task had been designed by them. There was no way she would get stuck in this time and accused of the murder. She might stay long enough to get roughed up a bit, but she even doubted that that would occur. Simply not enough time.
Anyway, everyone was asleep. She would simply add that to her list of things to do: clear her name, find the killer, how he did, when, and to keep the occupants of the train silent as she did. The last duty was not for the task's sake, but for her own patience.
She went through the list in her mind and landed on when. She had still felt warmth in the man's body, and she enough about death to know that by the freshness of his blood, his warmth, and how dry the blood on the clothes and carpet were, he had been killed within the past two hours, though she would bet within the hour. She had no proof, but what proof would she find of that? She was not a coroner.
With a sigh, she turned her attention to the fact that she needed more. Always more. There never seemed to be enough of anything to make anything convenient. Now what did she need to know to classify a murdered. An MO, a motive, means, and a murder weapon. The four M's. She was probably forgetting something, but any three of them would definitely be enough to prove a murder, or so she hoped.
Hmmm... She thought deeply, stroking her chin as she began to pace. Wanda stared at her and slowly sat down, evidently waiting for Jack to figure this out, offering no more advice, for which Jack was thankful. At the moment, she just needed her own brain, not someone planting thoughts that might lead her more astray.
She stopped. What had teachers in muggle school always say when you were confused about a problem on a test or something? Process of elimination. That was perfect. She did not have time to investigate each room for an MO, a motive, or a murder weapon... But a means... Which of them were large enough to carry the man? Or which were magical? Which were awake?
“Thank you Wanda. Stay here.”
She tucked the list into her pocket and quickly scavenged the compartment for a pen before walking out into the aisle that led down the train. She took a deep breath, knowing the first step and realizing she would be doing the opposite of her last duty- keeping everyone asleep and quiet. She walked down closed her eyes and concentrated on the opposite end of the train, between the first and second compartments and turned on her heel.
CRACK!
She appeared there and paused. For a second silence, until an older woman appeared out of the second compartment, asking about the commotion. Jack noted her small size and could see her sister behind her, who seemed even more frail. Without magic, they were harmless. They could not carry the man.
“Sorry, I tripped,” Jack said. “Do you happen to have any Chocolate Frogs?”
The woman stared at her like she was insane. Jack grinned. “Sorry, it's a new generation thing, I think. Sorry to disturb you.”
The woman retreated and Jack turned to the first compartment and tried to open it. Locked. She glanced around, took out her wand, and whispered, “Muffliato. Alohamora.” There was a whoosh and a click, and Jack opened the door, slipping inside.
She immediately regretted it. She did not see anything, but she saw enough to confirm her doubts that the newlywed Wycliffs were the murderers. They were covered in sheets, but a barren side and an unclothed leg here and there was enough to tell Jack they had been preoccupied. She strode forward and sniffed above them, getting whiffs of alcohol. They were unlikely suspects.
She backed out and relocked the door, slipping the list out of her pocket. She tapped the first two pairs, already having eliminated four suspects.
She paused and looked at the next group and closed her eyes, turning on the spot again.
CRACK!
She reappeared between compartments three and four. Seeing as three was where the body was, she figured it would be a quicker investigation. There was no stirring from the fourth compartment. Jack knocked once. No answer. She unlocked the door and slipped inside.
The tenants were, likewise, asleep. Jack glanced around and saw that the woman was too small to carry the victim. She raised her wand slightly and whispered, “Accio wands.” After a second, she realized none would soar into her hands. Unless they had cast protective spells, they were not magical. However, the man was big enough. Jack backed out and left the list as was.
CRACK!
Between five and six. Wanda's head immediately popped out of the compartment, but when she noticed it was only Jack, she slipped back in. And so it continued. Jack did not rule out the Blessingtons, even though the doctor was small framed and his son even wimpier- and neither seemed magical- she did not rule them out.
CRACK!
Seven and eight. The officials were not magical, that much was obvious. And the secretary was much too small and the other much too drunk to be taken seriously. The Professor seemed to be irritated by the noise when he peeked out, and Jack left him on the list, though she marked off the officials.
CRACK!
Miss Middleton was bleary eyed when she came out to investigate and unless she was an actress, Jack could think that she had been asleep. Before the tired woman could strike up conversation, Jack hurried off.
So. Possibly the proffessor and the doctor and the royal couple. Less possible Miss Middleton, the doctor's son. She stared at the list. Better... She tried to gague her time and guessed more than half of her time had been used up.
Means. Check.
Motive, she would never have time to investigate.
MO. Cut throat... The doctor could do that, but she had seen a medical bag there. Why so messy? She knew the right amount of prescription could work so much better. She counted the Blessingtons out. And Miss Middleton. Her hands had shaken something terrible.
The royal couple and the professor. Though Jack just could not think why either would want to harm Wanda's dad.
She paused... Murder weapon... Hmmm....
She went back to the Blessingtons and knocked on the door. The doctor answered, looking even more puzzled than the first time she had appeared.
“Sorry, to disturb you... But I've found something really scary and I'm concerned.”
He seemed to be a good, kind soul and he followed her to her compartment, gasping as she let him in. He paused and hurried back to his compartment to fetch his bag.
Once gloved, his hands probed the wound and then checked the vitals; which seemed rather idealistic in Jack's opinion. He announced that it was the work of a silver sort of knife, from his best guess, and said he was going to go and get someone who could do something for them. Jack watched him knock the door of the officials until they answered and when they went inside, Jack locked the door with a quick spell.
Jack had not seen a silver knife anywhere and her time was coming to a close, she could feel it. Her head spun momentarily. How could she solve this!? It was not as if the knife would just come out of nowhere, it would not soar into her hands...
She paused and a hand came to her forehead, a laugh escaping her lips. She shook her head, scolding herself for her obliviousness. She stepped into the hallway and walked to the very end, pointing towards the end. She could deal with the consequences later.
“Accio knife that killed Mr. Boardfoot!”
She waited and felt the swoop of disappointment. Then suddenly, she heard a thump, a creak, a curse, and a knife came sliding down the floor towards her. The conductor burst from the main part of the train, sprinting after the escaping knife, which drug blood across the floor.
With a flick of her wand, the official's door opened and the knife rested at her feet. The conductor followed after, grabbing the knife and pointing it in her face. She flinched away but did not back down.
”I'll kill ye! That's my knife, leave it there!”
”Are you crazy, man!?”
Jack saw the conductor turn to face Sir Cole and the doctor. The secretary ran in from Jack's room. ”He's there alright!”
Jack cleared her throat. “There's a trail of blood from my room to the victim's. And this is his knife. He said so, himself.”
The scene exploded into chaos but Jack did not get to witness all of it. She slipped away and walked ghostlike, full of exhaustion and waning adrenaline, back to her compartment and found Wanda, holding her father's hand tearfully. Jack opened her mouth to tell her what she knew, but before she could, she was fading from this time and place, her purpose done. She vaguely heard Wanda's thank you, but before she could say more, she was gone.
by 
