Combat, much like the rest of life, is an excellent opportunity to learn. In fact, battle may be the greatest opportunity for personal advancement that mankind has ever known. Much of learning is trial and error, not so on the battlefield, as those that point arrows at themselves, forget to wear armor or leave their sword at home, rarely live to correct these problems. In a fight, there are two types of combatants, the inexperienced, doe-eyed, fresh from the academy, low-ranked soldier, whose odds of surviving first combat are depressingly small, and the wily, grizzled old veteran, who has become so disenfranchised that they trust no one as far as they can throw them, which given the amount of time they've spent at war, probably isn't very far anymore.
Now, how does someone, who enters combat the odds on favorite to soil themselves, become Alastor Moody? Instinct. You see, it requires time for the aforementioned pants-soiler to devolve into the type of person who would use said pants as a biological weapon in the heat of battle. So it goes without saying that those who fail to take cover, those who attempt to call a 'time-out', or those who generally think its a good idea to play chicken with a live hand grenade, don't have the instincts for battle. Thus it is those very first instincts in battle that are most telling about a person.
If you can understand them.
The month between when Harry and Viktor discovered an incoherent Barty Crouch stumbling onto the grounds, to the morning of the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament passed in a blur. The ramblings of the addled and still missing ministry official just seemed to darken the cloud hanging over the tournament for Harry. It also seemed to confirm Sirius and Moody's thoughts that something sinister was moving behind the scenes of the tournament, making tonight's event all the more anxiety inducing.
But despite the nerves and long hours spent cramming new spells into his head, Harry had gotten, or rather been forced into, a good nights sleep, so when the late June sun crept into Harry's face, he found himself nervous, but ready for what lay before him. He took a bit longer in the shower than usual, but he figured that there was no harm in indulging in the warm water, and considering how quickly Fred and George could start a victory party, he might not get the chance to after the task was over. Judging by the sun, Harry figured that he'd spent about forty-five minutes relaxing, and so he hurriedly dressed himself and headed out into the common area. Retrospectively, Harry realized that, ever since they had moved in together, Daphne had been the one supporting him, doing nice things and generally being a wonderful person. Today, he had a surprise for his soon-to-be wife, that he hoped would show that he could do nice things too.
He found her, nose in a book, cramming for her last exam of the year. Of the courses that Harry wasn't taking at Hogwarts, Ancient Runes was definitely not his thing. Daphne and Hermione had tried to explain it to him, tag-teaming him as they diagrammed and wheezed on about the various combinations of runes and how difficult it was to differentiate between the Latin and Greek runes. Harry just couldn't bring himself to care. As much as he disliked Divination, he wasn't exactly rushing to sign up for Arithmancy either. Anyway, Daphne was just sitting at the table, pouring over her Runes book, when Harry came out of his room and simply grabbed her by the arm and proceeded to drag her towards the door.
"Harry!" She yelled. "I need to study for my exam, it's in an hour and-"
"and if you study any more you're head might fall off." Harry interjected. It was true, she'd been reviewing since yesterday. "Besides, you need to eat something, keep your energy up, what good is all the knowledge in the world if you fall asleep taking the test?"
Relenting at the truth he spoke, and finding his protectiveness rather charming, Daphne allowed herself to be dragged off through the hallways to the Great Hall. To her surprise, along with the assortment of students who were filtering in and out, there was a large group of people just standing over by the main doors. There were three with such bright, golden hair that they could only be Fleur's parents, while Gabrielle was excitedly looking between her family and the unfamiliar castle. Viktor's parents were happily catching up with their son, while Cedric and his parents were amicably chatting away. Standing a bit apart from the others, were three people with distinct red hair, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Bill, if Daphne's memory was working properly, she could vaguely recall him helping control the dragons after the first task. Beside them was a rather large black dog, which was just sitting there, patiently, but as soon as it noticed Harry, it stood up and began wagging it's tail excitedly.
But most shocking to Daphne, was that her Father was standing there, next to the Weasley's, apparently waiting for the same thing, or person, that they red-heads were. As they made their way into the throng of people, Harry politely introduced Daphne to the Weasleys, while he reached down and scratched behind the dog's ears, before moving onto the more difficult task of introducing Paul to everyone. Thankfully, Arthur and Bill didn't seem to have the same association of Slytherin and evil that Ron did, and while Molly was clearly a bit suspicious of Paul and Daphne, she was polite enough to not let it ruin the morning for Harry.
"What are you doing here?" Daphne asked her dad once she had a moment.
"I'm just here to support Harry." Paul explained. "Though I must admit, I'm rather shocked that he invited us, the Weasley's I understand, but it's rather nice to get to see him perform in action. I know your mother's looking forward to this as well, she'll be coming as soon as she's done with practice"
Having bother her parents here for support was quite the treat for Daphne, and she hoped that Astoria would be just as surprised as she was. She continued chatting with her father, as well as answering questions from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but soon it was time for her final exam and she had to run off. But before she did, she pulled Harry to the side and gave him a quick hug and thanked him for his surprise. Both Harry and her father, as well as the Weasley's, much to her wonder, wished her luck on her exam before she ran off.
The remainder of Harry's morning was spent as part tour guide/conversation catalyst. There were quite a few awkward moments of silence between the four adults in his group and they only seemed to truly disappear when one of Harry's friends would join the group. Ginny and Neville joined the group during the morning exam period, with Ginny trying to calmly explain to her mother why Ron wasn't with them, and Neville having a rather awkward conversation with Mr. Weasley, who was not acting in his usual, excitable manner. Ever since the Yule ball, Ginny and Neville had been spending more time together than any of her brothers were really comfortable with, and obviously they had expressed said anxiety with their family.
Just before lunch, Daphne and Hermione returned from the Ancient Runes exam, care free and looking forward to the rest of the day, even if it was going to culminate with the third task. Astoria, who had just finished her potions final, joined them for a hurried lunch, as she still had her Transfiguration final before she could relax. The afternoon was spent mostly outside, the group merely wandering around the grounds, hiking past the Great lake and around the edge of the Quidditch Pitch-turned maze. About three, Daphne and Paul excused themselves and returned to the Castle so that they could collect Astoria and welcome Maggie as a Family. This left Harry alone with the Weasley's and Sirius for the first time today, and the Marauder didn't waste a moment before he transformed back from Snuffles. He looked much better than last year, less gaunt and ghostly, but still rather thin.
"It's good to see you again, kiddo." He warmly greeted. Apparently, he had made some sort of arrangement with the Weasleys, because all of them suddenly found something rather far off in the distance very interesting, and moved a ways off to view it better. "I want you know, first and foremost, just how proud I am, we all are, of you. You've performed so much better than anyone could have hoped for, but you need to remember that this is the last opportunity-"
"For whoever entered me into this thing to get at me. I now." Harry interjected. "We've been preparing extra hard for this task, much more so than for any of the others. I have to say, I feel more prepared for this one, than for either of the others."
"And I'm glad you're prepared and that you feel confident, but I'll feel better once this damned tournament is over and you're on the express safely on your way back." Sirius's smile seemed rather empty, and his eyes never met Harry's, always sweeping the grounds behind his godson. "Look, you know I've been investigating Paul Greengrass." Harry nodded, feeling the conversation shift from partially lighthearted, to deathly serious. "Well, I've been at it ever since you told me about Daphne, and something just not right."
"How so?" Harry asked. He liked Paul Greengrass, the man had never given any indication that he wished harm upon Harry, nor had he ever lied, so far as Harry could tell.
"Well, that's the thing, the man's a contradiction wrapped in a puzzle smothered in an enigma. He does business with muggles and Death Eaters, people either think the world of him or despise him." Sirius ticked items off on his fingers as he went down his mental list of 'Things That aren't quite right about Paul Greengrass.' "For a man who operates in both the magical world and the muggle one, he leaves very little impact on either, in fact, it's almost like he's a ghost. He's here, but he doesn't leave a trace of his presence."
"I don't know, Sirius. I like Paul, he seems like a pretty good guy. Do you have any proof that he'd doing something dark?"
"That's the problem kiddo, the only proof is the absence of proof. Everyone I've ever know has some kind of record with the ministry, a warning for underage magic, or a citation for splinching or something. But Paul doesn't seem to exist on any registry what-so-ever, except the marriage registry. Even his OWL and NEWT scores seem to be non existent." That gave Harry a moment of pause. Who didn't have OWL or NEWT scores? But something in his gut told Harry to trust Paul, and that's what he'd do, for now.
"I'll keep and eye out, but until there's some proof, I trust Paul. I can't explain it, but there's just this feeling, like a whisper in my ear to trust him."
"Well, as long as you keep your eyes peeled, I can't make you do anything." Sirius didn't want to start an argument over this, especially not hours before a potentially fatal event that his underage godson had been forced into competing. So he let it slide, and not a moment too soon, as he spotted Paul and company making their way from the castle. Quickly turning into Padfoot, Sirius would be forced to watch, muted, while many of his worst nightmares played out before him in the coming hours.
The nerves didn't seem to hit Harry until he sat down for dinner. Sitting with so many people who were nothing but supportive of him, should have been calming, but sitting with his girlfriend, her family, and the Weasley's, Ron included, just seemed to add pressure. About an hour before the task was to begin, Dumbldore stood up and announced that the spectators should begin to head toward the Quidditch Pitch. As everyone wished Harry luck, including a rather hurried kiss from Daphne, the fourth champion noticed that Ron was hanging behind.
"Mate, Harry...I know I haven't been supportive of you, and right arse, but...look, I'm sorry. For everything, accusing you of entering the tournament, for being jealous. For basically being a jerk. Do you think you could forgive me?"
Harry looked over his former best friend. Ron's posture looked liked a kicked dog, and Harry though he might have seen him rubbing his ear, a sure sign of Molly Weasley tongue lashing.
"Your mum yell at you?" Harry asked. Ron just nodded sheepishly, causing Harry to sigh.
"Ron, I'd love to go back to how we were before, but if you need I need to have your mother present to referee us, then I don't know if I can do that." To Harry shock, Ron shook his head rapidly.
"I didn't need Mum to tell me I was wrong, I just needed her yelling at me to realize that every day I wasn't apologizing was another day I was treating you badly. I realized after the first task that you would never enter a tournament where you risked your life every time out, and I was too jealous at the Yule Ball to think straight. This is something I should have done ages ago, and I've no one to blame but myself for why I haven't."
"No offense Ron, but you really loused things up between us. Not only with not believe me, but with Hermione too. You hurt her feelings really badly, and while I'm happy to give you another chance, she might not."
"Does that mean?..."
"Yeah, Ron, I'm willing to give you another chance, but you need to understand that both Hermione and Daphne are important to me now, if you can't handle either of them, than I doubt that we can be friends anymore."
Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He was back in Harry's good graces, at least for now. If he wanted to stay there, he had work to do, and he thought the best place to start might be by apologizing to Hermione. His father's shout from the Entry Hall broke up the tense conversation he had been having and with a nod of gratitude Ron ran off to join his family.
The Great Hall was suddenly very empty, with only the four champions occupying the massive space and the silence that hung in the air was deathly still. It wasn't for another fifteen minutes that Madame Maxime came and collected the champions. Before Harry knew it, he was standing before a packed stadium, waiting for the signal that would signal the start of the final task. With a deafening bang, Harry and Cedric entered the cavernous maze, quickly parting ways at the first fork. By the time that a second BANG signaled Viktor's entry, Harry had used a rather useful spell that Hermione had discovered, called the 'Four Point' spell, to indicate the shortest route to the center of the maze and had taken another two forks. Five minutes late, when Fleur had entered, Harry had yet to encounter any obstacles other than dead ends and was making great progress to the center.
Rounding another corner, Harry felt the sweat on his skin grow icy cold and clammy, while his head began to swim. Quickly recognizing the effects that Dementors had on him, Harry's right arm shot up, wand extended as the black cloak of the fearsome guard materialized out of the shadows of the maze.
With a cry of "Expecto Patronum!" The silvery, ethereal form of Prongs sprang from the tip of his wand and charged at the approaching Dementor, only for the foul creature to stumble backwards and trip over the hem of its robe. Now, Harry had never seen a Dementor stumble, and if his suspicions weren't already up, when the stadium erupted in laughter at the hapless monster, Harry noticed the being cringe and recoil.
"Boggart, of course, they wouldn't use an actual Dementor." Harry muttered. Recalling the look on Malfoy's face back in their third year, when the blond ponce had tried to intimidate Harry by dressing up as a Dementor, Harry again raised his wand and, in a very commanding voice, destroyed the boggart.
"Riddikulus!"
Making his way past his first obstacle, Harry paused as he saw red sparks appear in the sky. One of the competitors had dropped out. Harry hoped that they weren't injured and turned down a branching path, only to encounter a strange golden mist. Since this fork was the fastest way to the center, Harry just continued on through, though he had to take pause when he suddenly found himself seemingly upside down, while inside the mist. Emerging from the discombobulating mist, Harry wondered if all the obstacles would be this simple. Cedric's scream of agony quickly put an end to that train of thought, and Harry raced toward his fellow champion's aid.
Viktor Krum had his wand trained at Cedric, who had falling to the ground and was writhing in pain. Harry didn't even bother to try and talk to Viktor, he just fired a couple of Stunners at the
Bulgarian's back, both of which connected, dropping their victim to the ground and releasing the spell on Cedric. Harry rushed over, intentionally stepping on Viktor's wand, resulting in a satisfying snap under his trainer's. Cedric was panting, but trying to sit up when Harry got to him.
"You okay?" Harry asked, grasping the older boy's shoulder. He felt Cedric shudder and shake beneath him.
"I'll be okay, Merlin that hurt!" Cedric managed to get into a sitting position before he was forced to momentarily relent his attempt to stand.
"What did he use?" Harry asked, fearing the worst based on how badly Cedric was shaking.
"Cruciatus." Was the the reply. Harry cursed, catching Cedric off guard.
"I though he was an okay guy." Harry growled in anger, helping Cedric shakily to his feet.
"Thanks mate, don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here." Cedric took deep breaths of air as if he had just swam the length of the Black Lake. "You should head on ahead." Harry looked at him, disbelief clear on his face. "I'm serious, go on ahead, I'll be alright, I just need a moment."
Harry wasn't convinced. "You sure?" Cedric nodded, a bit more assuredly and reached down to pick his wand up off the ground. "Look, I'll cast the sparks so they can come and get Krum, but if you're still here when I'm done, I'll hex you." Harry wasn't sure if the Hufflepuff was joking or not, but he decided that either way, he was better served by moving on, and so he turned his back to Cedric and ran back into the maze.
Twenty minutes, one sphinx a giant Blast-Ended Skrewt and a nasty gash to his leg, Harry and Cedric stood at the center of the maze, Triwizard Cup gleamed in the near dark before them.
"Together?" Cedric asked.
"Together." Harry insisted. "A Hogwarts victory." They reached out and grasped for the handles of the cup, but the moment their hands touched the gleaming metal, their stomachs were instantly assaulted by the feeling of portkey travel, and the next thing they knew they were slamming into the ground somewhere that clearly wasn't Hogwarts.
From the stands, students and teachers watched as each Champion faced obstacle after obstacle. When the first red sparks went up, all eyes turned to the prone form of Fleur Dealcour, but no one seemed to know how she had ended up on the ground. Those who were supporting Harry never took their eyes off of him, so while they were very worried about him, they really had no idea just how few obstacles he was encountering. In fact, most eyes in the crowd were split between Viktor and Harry, but when the Durmstrang champion turned his wand on Cedric, everyone gasped. Never in anyone's imagination would a student dare use an unforgivable. Once Cedric was back on his feet everyone breathed a sigh of relief that no permanent damage seemed to be done.
By the end, even the foreign students thought that there was something poetic about Harry and Cedric tying for the title. So when the two reached out and grasped the cup, applause erupted from every corner of the pitch. At first, no one knew what had happened when the two dissapeared and all eyes turned to the judges for the answer. But the shocked expressions on the judges faces just betrayed that even they didn't understand what had happened.
Harry and Cedric, both hampered by injuries, rose to their feet as quickly as they could and took stock of their surroundings. They were on the top of a hill and it appeared to be inside graveyard, but where exactly remained unknown.
"You don't think this is part of the tournament, do you?" Cedric asked, voice devoid of hope.
"I really hope so, but I doubt it."
"You have that sinking feeling too?" Cedric smiled, and without another word, both raised their wands and slowly made their way downhill.
As they approached the bottom, Harry's scar suddenly erupted in pain just as someone in black robes appeared before them. At first glance it appeared to be a rather grotesquely shaped man, but upon closer inspection, a second, much smaller form became noticeable.
"Kill the spare!" The voice was icily cold and the larger form raised a wand.
"Avada Kedavra!" Peter Pettigrew's voice preceded the sickly green light raced from the wand, toward Cedric, and Harry, whose instincts had never failed him before, found himself frozen.
And yet, as the deadly spell raced forward, Harry felt his right arm rise, but not by his doing. As it came level, Harry tried to imagine a spell to use, anything that might save Cedric, but nothing came to his blank mind. Still, from his center, a hot and powerful sensation erupted. It traveled from his core outward, until a blue light sped from the tip of his wand, directly at Pettigrew's.
The two collided mere inches away from Cedric, and from Harry's perspective, the amalgam of spell fire lanced underneath Cedric's outstretched arm and collided with his chest. The older boy's body flew backward and collided with a protruding headstone and slumped to the ground, unmoving. Harry felt his feet fail him and as he collapsed to the ground, he heard two distinct voices. The first was Peter Pettigrew, conjuring ropes that wound around Harry, binding him. The second seemed to come from both inside Harry and outside at the same time. It was distinct, yet seemed to be echoing throughout his ears, his head, all of his senses.
"Finally, you come. He is alive, but because you did not act, he is frozen, only to be awoken when you understand. This is your power, use it wisely."
The words bombarded Harry as if he had flown through a flock of bludgers. He was so engrossed on the fading feeling of heat and power inside himself, Harry never heard Pettigrew's stunner.
Harry stood, knees shaking, as pain lanced from both his leg and arm simultaneously. Pettigrew had cut his elbow to collect blood that had been used to resurrect Voldemort. Now, the Dark Lord stood before him, flanked by dozens of followers and they were to duel to the death. His death, presumably, but then Harry had never been very presumptuous, and despite the pain and shock, he was continuously looking for an opening, some way that he might escape and return to Hogwarts.
"First we bow. Bow to me, bow to death, Harry Potter!" And to his horror, Harry felt his spine bend as he bent over in a bow. Before he could think anymore, he was hit with pain unimaginable. Every nerve in his body fired in pain and he was sure he was screaming, but nothing registered but the searing pain. Then, after what felt like hours, the pain began to fade, and as his senses returned, Harry realized that no more than seconds had passed. He was on his hands and knees, gasping for air that he desperately needed, but no amount seemed to help. Voldemort was saying something, but nothing registered. Harry's mind was racing, how could he possibly survive this, how could he get away, how could he win.
Voldemort wasn't talking anymore, and Harry looked up, only to find another spell racing towards him. There was no time to dodge or counter, and as the spell collided with him, Harry felt a felling of euphoria spread throughout his body.
"Beg." A voice said. Voldemort's voice, but not his physical voice. "Beg for death Harry, beg, and I'll spare your friends." The imperius curse. It was far stronger than Moody's had been, yet that small voice spoke up again, from farther away, but it made itself known none the less. No!
"Do it!"
Don't!
"Obey me!"
"Never!"
The strength behind Harry's voice shocked everyone in that graveyard. Voldemort seemed shocked, but then happy. As if he respected the strength that Harry had just shown.
"Then you shall perish. Avada Kedavra!"
No sooner had the Dark Lord attempted to kill him, Harry rose to his feet and did the first thing that came to his mind.
"Expelliarmus!"
The reaction that the two spells had was spectacular. Red and Green combined to make the purest gold and from this thread, splinters formed and spread out, not unlike a spider's web and very quickly, Harry and Voldemort were cocooned inside. A couple of Death Eaters tried to force their way in and were rebuffed strongly. As Tom was ordering his followers to retreat, Harry noticed a ball of light, suspended on the thread of magic that connected his wand with Voldemort's and as he noticed it, it began to move away from him. For a few seconds, the bead traveled away from Harry but as it approached, Tom's wand began to vibrate and pulse violently. The more it shook, the harder Voldemort tried to push the bead back, but eventually it connected, and from his wand began to issue ghostly images.
First of the silver hand of Peter Pettigrew, then the forms became people. An elderly man, that Harry recognized as the groundskeeper he had seen through a vision over the past summer, then a woman, who Harry recognized as Bertha Jorkins. It wasn't until her head sprouted, that Harry realized that his mother would be the next one to join them, followed seconds later by his father. As he laid eyes upon his parents forms, that strange, hot sensation returned. From his core he felt it spread and envelope him. The look on Voldemort's face, as he saw the forms of his victims was that of sheer terror. They circled him and looked down upon him. They spoke to both, encouraging Harry and cursing Voldemort. On their mark, Harry gave a mighty tug and the connection was severed. The ghostly specters descended upon Voldemort, who began to fire curses at the figures, to no effect.
Harry ran. Back to Cedric, back to the portkey. He hear the Death Eaters chase after him, and he pointed his wand over his shoulder and began to fire blindly, the heat in his core escaping with every spell he fired. Death Eaters found themselves frozen in mid leap, or ducking Reductor curses that seemed to dissolve anything they came into contact with. They tried to capture Harry when they could, but he was too small a target and had too much of a lead on them. But all of a sudden, Voldemort's voice appeared at the front of the chase pack, casting spells to kill Harry, but with no success. Harry came skidding to a stop just above Cedric's unmoving body and threw a reductor curse at a tombstone to try and create a diversion.
"Accio Cup!" Voldemort yelled, and Harry watched, stricken as the Triwizard cup lurched from the ground and raced toward his nemesis through the air. By the time Harry had time to react, it had soared past him and was almost to Voldemort. In desperation, Harry did the only thing that came to mind.
"Accio!"
Just as the cup thudded into Voldemort's outstretched hand, Harry's spell hit it's mark. In an instant, the cup was ripped from Voldemort and appeared in Harry's possession. Harry heard the angry scream from his foe, just as the portkey activated.
Seconds later, Harry arrived back at the center of the maze, Cedric Diggory's comatose body by his left side, the Triwizard Cup, with a pale white arm still grasping the other handle, in his right.
There was so much chaos once everyone realized that Harry and Cedric had disappeared, that thirty minutes later, few initially realized that Harry had returned. Harry looked around, the heat in his core dissipating, leaving nothing but fatigue. He wanted to get out of here, he had to. He needed to tell Dumbledore about Voldemort. A hand grasped his arm and Harry turned to find Mad Eye Moody, looking over him, worry on his face.
"Come on Potter, let's get you out of here."
Other teachers and judges were running towards them, Cedric's parent's among them and as much as Harry wanted to, he just wasn't up to face any of them yet. So he let Cedric's arm slip from his grip, along with the cup and it's grizzly souvenir. The hedges that had been such an obstacle before, seemed to melt before the ex-auror and within minutes the duo was outside the maze. As they got to the school, Daphne seemed to materialize from nowhere, melting from the shadows and quickly lifting Harry's right arm over her shoulder and helping to support him.
"Here, we can stop in my office and I'll floo the infirmary." Moody jerked his head toward the door to his classroom door, which opened at his beckoning and the trio slipped inside. Before Harry could sit down, Moody dropped him and stepped away, wand trained at the engaged pair. Before either could react, both were disarmed and at the wand point of someone they had trusted implicitly just a minute ago.
"I don't know how you survived Potter, but my master will be most pleased when I deliver you for the second time. Not only you, but your blood traitor of a girlfriend as well. I'm sure he'll go easy on you if you pledge your loyalty to him, Miss Greengrass."
Daphne felt like her brain was five minutes in the past, nothing was making sense. Harry disappearing, then reappearing. She had been one of the first to notice their arrival, and she made a mad run for the castle as soon as she saw Moody lead Harry out. Now she was being held hostage by her professor and she didn't know what to do. So she answered truthfully.
She shook her head.
"You won't give up this boy?" Moody asked, surprise evident in his voice. Daphne stood her ground. "So be it. You can die along with the boy."
Harry was so tired. He felt more drained of energy than ever before. The power he had used in the graveyard seemed to be gone and he didn't have his wand. Daphne was likewise without her wand and Moody, was apparently working for Voldemort.
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell came from seemingly nowhere and caught everyone by surprise. The three wands in Moody's possession flew from his grasp and sailed toward an empty corner of the classroom. Ron Weasley stepped out from Harry's invisibility cloak and Tracey Davis caught the wands, while simultaneously leveling hers at Moody. Everyone was so shocked that no one batted an eye when the door exploded under the power of Dumbledore who immediately subdued Moody. Stepping through the door, everyone present realized why Voldemort would fear Dumbledore. Gone was the warm, grandfatherly look, replaced by someone who radiated power and control. Behind him, Madam Pomfrey hurried through the shattered wooden remains and Professors Snape and McGonagall. The mediwitch hurried over to Harry, while McGonagall, who knew enough not to get in Poppy Pomfrey's way when the health of a patient was involved, confronted Ron and Tracey.
While Harry was being bombarded with medical questions, both he and Daphne were trying to tell the Headmaster what had happened, while Snape merely watched the unconscious Moody.
"Mr. Potter needs rest, but is otherwise fine." The kindly nurse declared, looking to the headmaster for direction.
"What about my arm and leg?" Harry asked. He motioned to the cut in his robes from Pettigrew's knife and Madame Pomfrey grabbed his arm and moved aside the dirty material, only to expose dried blood, but no cut or even a scar.
"I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Potter, but besides a rather nasty case of exhaustion, you're in good health." A quiet pop announced the arrival of a house-elf, who carried to vials of potion, one Harry realized was the Veritiserum that Snape had threatened him with earlier on in the year, while the other was a sleeping draught. The later was pushed into his hands against his protest, and quickly poured down his throat. The last thing Harry recalled before sleep overtook him, was Alastar Moody's body transforming into a much younger form, one that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's pensive a month before.
Sound. That was the first thing Harry felt. Sound that became voices and voices that his mind quickly put pictures too. Daphne and Paul arguing with Dumbledore. Hermione, Ron and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley quietly conversing. The next sensation was smell. Antiseptic, clean. Hospital wing. Wet dog, that would be Sirius. The stiff, rough sheets of the bed woke his nerves up and before long he was opening his eyes and groaning at the bright light. All the noise stopped.
"What happened...with Crouch?" He asked, through dry. He looked at Dumbledore, hoping for answers.
"We questioned Barty Crouch Jr. under truth serum and he confessed to everything, placing your name in the goblet, turning the cup into a portkey and sending you to the graveyard. He admitted to serving Lord Voldemort, to all the crimes he was charged with after the first war." Harry smiled at the good news. Daphne had placed a glass of ice water in his hands and after taking a sip, he continued.
"So what is the Ministry doing? More Aurors, or are they hunting for him?" At the question, everyone looked away and became sheepish.
"They're not doing anything." Ron said. "Before anyone else could question him, Fudge had him kissed."
"But Voldemort's back, they have to do something!" Harry argued, sitting up as his voice rose.
"The Minister is choosing to not believe us, or you." Paul explained. "Even when you turned back up with the cup and a severed arm, all the Minister would believe is that Crouch was working with someone who tried to bring the Dark Lord back. He says there's no evidence that he's actually back."
That jogged Harry's memory, of the graveyard, the duel...Cedric.
"What about Cedric?"
"Mr. Diggory is in a comatose state, deeper than petrification, and has been moved to St. Mungo's in hope that they will be able to help him." Dumbledore's answer gave Harry pause. Cedric wasn't dead, but he was comatose, and for all intents, just barely connected to life.
"Harry, you should be very proud of how you handled yourself. Whatever you did, saved Cedric's life, I have no doubt that Lord Voldemort was trying to kill him, and because of you, he is alive." Dumbledore always seemed to know what Harry was thinking. "And as for the ministry, there is only so long that they will be able to maintain their story. In the interim, there are those of us who are dedicated to fighting him. He will not remain unopposed."
Harry had so many questions, but before he could ask any more, Madame Pomfrey came over and chased out everyone except the Headmaster. Once she was content that he wouldn't hurt himself by sitting up, she allowed Harry to speak with Dumbledore, alone, for the first time. Harry found himself describing the heat he felt, and the voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. He told the headmaster everything he could remember from the time Voldemort rose form the cauldron, to the time he took the sleeping draught.
"I'm afraid I cannot answer your questions, Harry. Not because I do not want to, but because, what you have described, this heat and voices such as the one you described, I've never heard of anything like it." The Headmaster was able to explain why Harry's wand connected with Voldemort's. Priori Incantatem, all brought about because their wands share the same core, a tail feather from Fawkes.
Once the Headmaster had finished explaining all he could to Harry, he allowed the others to return, but at Harry's request, allowed Paul and Daphne, along with Sirius in first. Once they were alone, Harry asked Daphne something he remembered from the previous night.
"Did you mean it, when you told Crouch that you'd rather stay with me, than join Voldemort?" Besides a small flinch at the name, Daphne's answer was adamant.
"Absolutely. I realized that I'd rather stay with you, fight with you, than join him." Harry turned to Paul.
"You realize that this will make you targets, right?" To the surprise of all, Paul smiled.
"Well, truth be told, we would probably be targets regardless of Daphne's association with you. See, I do a lot of work for a lot of Death Eaters, and as soon as they realize just how much power I have over their money, they'll not be too pleased."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Paul gave a sheepish smile.
"Do you know the golden rule?"
"Always treat other as you would like to be treated?"
"Well, yes, but not the one I'm thinking of."
"Always say please and thank you?"
"Well, I suppose, but again, not the one I'm thinking of."
"Always eat your vegetables?"
"No, but the one I mean is, 'Those that have the gold make the rules.'"
"I've heard of it, but I don't see how-"
"What Dad means, is that if money equals power, knowing where the money is hidden controls power."
"See, Harry, I launder money for a lot of 'influential' people. If they want to bribe someone, the money can't be traced back to them. They come to me, and I make it happen."
This confession caused Sirius to forget where he was, and transformed out of his animagus form.
"I knew there was something not right about you!" He yelled, marching around Harry's bed toward Paul, who upon seeing 'The Mass Murderer' Sirius Black, coming at him, grabbed Daphne and backed away, only for Harry to stop his Godfather.
"Sirius! Stop it! You heard him, once people find out that he basically controls their gold, he'll be a target for sure."
Hearing his godson's protest, Sirius paused and looked Paul over again.
"Are you willing to use whatever resources you have to help Harry?"
Paul just looked back at Sirius, as if sizing him up.
"I'll do whatever I have to, to protect my family. In just over three weeks, Harry will be family. I might not be much of a fighter, but I'll help however I can." This seemed to be the correct answer, and in that moment a tentative truce was formed.
One week later, Harry found himself enduring a car trip alone with his Uncle. They were having guests over for dinner, new neighbors or something, and Petunia had to stay back to finish dinner. As they pulled into the carport, Vernon gave one last reminder that he was to keep any freakishness at bay for the evening. Since these were neighbors, there was really no way to keep Harry hidden from them. As Harry retrieved hi trunk from the boot of his Uncle's car, Vernon had stepped inside to find that the new neighbors were already there, one of them at least. He quickly introduced himself and called for Harry to hurry up and get in here to introduce himself. Harry received quite the shock when he walked inside and saw the smiling face of Paul Greengrass.
"The girls will be here momentarily, they had some last minute shopping to do." Paul explained, all the while enjoying the puzzled looks the Durlsey's were sharing.
(A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. I so glad that so many of you are still enjoying this. Well, this is by far the longest chapter I've written in terms of pages, so I hope you all enjoy it. We get to see a bit of what Harry's power this chapter, more will come starting next chapter, but until then, I welcome all guesses. Also, next chapter will be the wedding, so those of you who have been waiting have that to look forward to.
Thanks again for all the support, and I do hope you like this, even though it's very similar to the book.)
