Dumbledore called us up to his office once we made back to Hogwarts that night, so Harry and I immediately headed up to meet him. Harry also want to talk to Dumbledore about the strange occurrences and what he had been seeing a feeling over the past year or so. I didn't need to be there for that, but Harry had insisted I go since had already called me.

Harry and I emerged from the nook away from the griffin statue stepped towards Professor Dumbledore's office before we heard a familiar voice emanating from inside.

"A man has died here, and he won't be the last. You must take action!" I could hear Dumbledore argue.

"I will not! In times like these the wizarding world looks to its leaders for strength, Dumbledore," another voice insisted and I immediately recognized it as the Minister of Magic.

"Then for once show them some!" Dumbledore exclaimed as Harry and I inched closer to the door to listen in.

"The Triwizard Tournament will not be cancelled! I will not be seen as a coward!" the minister insisted again.

"A true leader does what is right, no matter what others think,"

"What did you say to me? What did you say -?"

"Excuse me gentlemen, it may interest you to know that this conversation is no longer private," I could hear Professor Moody announce, making Harry and I quickly step away from the door and Harry raise his hand to look as is he were going to knock as the door swung open.

"Harry! How good to see you again!" the minister smiled as he opened his arms as if they were the best of friends. "Oh and little Rebecca Sherwood!" he smiled as he looked at me. "How is your mother?"

"Good," I muttered as I stepped a little behind Harry.

"We can come back later, Professor," Harry offered, gesturing back toward the door, looking as if he was willing to make a run for it.

"Not necessary, Harry. The minister and I are done," Dumbledore announced, receiving a look from the minister. "I'll be back in a moment," he told us as he past by us, opening the door to let the minister through. "Oh, and do feel free to indulge in a Licorice Snap in my absence, but I have to warn you- they are a little bit sharp,"

Dumbledore followed the minister out of the room along with Mad-Eye, who turned back to stare at Harry before using his wand to shut the door, leaving Harry and I alone.

I sighed and looked around the room as Harry made his way toward the Licorice Snaps. Everything was the same as in my second year when I had been in here, though there was now a few extra bobbles and whatnot's about the room.

"Ah!" I spun around to see Harry being attacked by Licorice Snaps, and I couldn't help but start laughing as he knocked into one of the cabinets as Licorices Snap bit his fingers before scurrying away as Harry tried to capture them again.

I laughed until Harry looked up at me with a dirty look, making my laughter turn to giggles and my giggles turn to snickers. "Sorry," I muttered.

At a grinding sound, I looked up at the cabinet that Harry bumped into as it started to move. A Pensieve, settled on top of a stone stand came out of the cabinet at came to a stop in front of us with a groaned.

Harry stood up from his place on the floor, and approached it, drawing it's wand over it, starting up the memory like clicking the 'on' button on a muggle T.V. set. Slowly, Harry leaned forward, as if to stick his face in to take a better look, but I stopped him, rolling my eyes at his confused expression.

"You don't have to stick your face in it, boy wonder," I chuckled, holding up a finger. "If you really wanna look, just stick your finger in," Harry gave me another confused look before doing as I said, me following him.

We fell into the memory, and landed beside a younger Professor Dumbledore, sitting in a courtroom at the Ministry.

"Professor?" Harry asked, looking at him as if Dumbledore was going to answer. Right then, a man walked up behind Harry and stuck his hand through him, shaking Dumbledore's hand, making Harry jump a little and rub his chest in surprise.

"We're in a memory. Probably Dumbledore's since it's his Pensieve," I told Harry.

I looked up as Igor Karkaroff appeared in a cage in the center of the room, in the center of large stacks of papers.

"Igor Karkaroff," Mr. Crouch began from the head of the room, wearing the full court uniform. "You have been brought from Azkaban at you own request to present evidence to this council. Should you testimony prove consequential, council may be prepared to order your immediate release. Until such time, you remain in the eyes of the Ministry a convicted Death Eater. Do you accept these terms?"

"I do, sir,"

"And what do you wish to present?"

"I have names, sir," Mr. Karkaroff began. "There was a Rosier, Evan Rosier,"

After some shuffling of papers, MR. Crouch was handed a piece of paper which he read quickly before saying; "Mr. Rosier is dead,"

"And took a piece of me with him," Mad-Eye chuckled from behind me, speaking to Dumbledore over my shoulder.

"Dead? I didn't know,"

"If that is all the witness has to offer-"

"No, no, no! There was Rookwood! He was a spy!" Karkaroff exclaimed.

"Augustus Rookwood? Of the Department of Mysteries?" Mr. Crouch asked.

"The same," Karkaroff exclaimed excitedly. "He passed information to You-Know-Who from inside the Ministry itself!"

"Very well," Crouch sighed. "Council will deliberate. In the meantime you will be returned to Azkaban,"

"No! No! Wait! Please! I have more!" Karkaroff yelled desperately. "What about Snape? Severus Snape?"

"As the council is aware, I've given evidence on this matter," Dumbledore said, standing up from his seat to speak. "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater and, prior to Lord Voldemort's downfall, turned spy for us at great personal risk,"

"It's a lie!" Karkaroff yelled.

"Today he's no more a Death Eater than I am,"

"Snape remains faithful to the Dark Lord!" Karkaroff continued to yell.

"SILENCE!" Crouch yelled, hammering the table with the gabble in his hand until the room fell silent again. "Unless the witness possesses any genuine name of consequence this session is now concluded,"

"Oh, no, no, no, no," Karkaroff sighed. "I know about one more,"

"What's that?"

"The name,"

"Yes?"

"I know for a fact this person took part in the capture and, by means of the Cruciatus Curse, tortured the Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife!"

"The name! Give me the wretched name!" Crouch exclaimed.

"Barty Crouch…" Karkaroff yelled, drawing a gasp from everyone in the room. "… Junior,"

All hell broke loose as a man I could only assume was Barty Crouch Junior tried to escape. It might of worked (not) except that Mad-Eye sent a curse at him, allowing offer wizards to grab him and haul him up in front of his father.

"Hello, Father," Barty Junior hissed with a small chuckle at the end.

Crouch just stared at him as if in shock before he muttered. "You are no son of mine," And Barty Crouch Junior was hauled out of the room.

Harry and I were then yanked out of the memory, and forced back into Dumbledore's office with a suddenly jerk. Harry stumbled back with a relieved gasp and I just removed my hand with a shudder.

"Curiosity is not a sin, but you should exercise caution,"

My attention snapped up so that I could see Dumbledore standing next the Pensieve, looking at Harry.

"It's a Pensieve," Dumbledore explained to Harry. "Very useful if, like me, you find your mind a wee bit stretched. It allows me to see once more things I've already seen. You see, Harry, I have searched and searched for something, some small detail, something I might have overlooked, something that would explain why these terrible things have happened. But every time I get close to an answer, it slips away!" Dumbledore growled as he watched over to the steps to his desks and sat down. "It's maddening!"

I wanted to laugh. Seeing this man, who seemed to know everything, that seemed to be so calm and collected, was getting frustrated, right in front of me. It seemed like a once in a life time experience.

"Sir? Mr. Crouch's son. What exactly happened to him?" Harry asked, stepping past me. I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but it was probably important. I mean… wasn't it always.

"He was sent to Azkaban," I spoke up, drawing both their gazes. "My father mentioned it to me once," I explained.

Dumbledore nodded. "It destroyed Barty to send him their, but the evidence was overwhelming," Dumbledore told us, before looking up to eye Harry. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that I - I had a dream about him," Harry murmured.

The dreams he had been having and had told Ron, Hermione and I about came front and center to my mind, so I knew immediately what he was talking about. So as Harry explained his dream to Dumbledore, I wondered what Barty Crouch Junior had to do with any of this, since he was in Azkaban… supposedly.

I mean, strange things were happening around here. Harry's dreams, the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire, the supposed Polyjuice potion Harry told us Myrtle saw in the bathroom, Mr. Crouch's murder, Barty Crouch Junior showing up in Harry's dreams. I mean, if this was all orchestrated by one someone for Voldemort, who could it be?

Of all the people Harry, Ron, Hermione and I had been suspicious of to this point, I didn't see any of them doing anything like this, at least, not like this. Mr. Karkaroff didn't seem like someone who would do Voldemort's work so diligently, he'd do it more out of fear. If Snape was doing this, it wouldn't be as obvious, and Snape had already saved Harry's but before, I didn't seem him doing anything like this now.

The most important things to look at were probably the Polyjuice and the death of Mr. Crouch. If the Polyjuice was being used by whoever was doing this, then that someone was impersonating someone in the castle to be here. Also, instead of using Obliviate on Mr. Crouch, if they had been caught, they had killed him, which seemed personal to me. I mean, Obliviate would keep them from being caught and wouldn't be as, 'I am here,' than just wiping his memory.

I shook my head. There were to many What if's and Maybe's for me to figure this out, especially on my own. I'd talk to Harry later.

So, I turned back to Harry and Dumbledore, paying attention to what they were saying again, only to me ushered out of the room by Harry, us having apparently been excused.

"Good night, Professor," I called as Harry shut the door behind us and we made our way to the griffin statue. "Well… that was an interesting visit," I smiled.

Harry looked at me as if I was crazy, before the two of us started chuckling quietly to ourselves.

"You always know how to make me feel better," Harry smiled as he got his breath back, as the Griffin stopped turning and we were back in the halls of the school.

"That's why I'm still high up on your list of friends," I told him.

A few minutes later, Harry and I were both walking back to Gryffindor Tower, when we heard a muffled voice yelling from a closet near us.

"It's a sign, Severus! You know what it means as well as I!"

I turned in time to see the closet door fly open and find Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang, talking to Professor Snape. His sleeve was rolled up, revealing a Dark Mark on his arm.

The two men turned and looked at us, both glaring before Mr. Karkaroff rolled down his sleeve and quickly left. Harry suddenly grabbed my arm and began pulling me down the corridor before Snape caught us.

"Potter! Sherwood!" Snape spat. "What's your hurry?"

Harry sighed and the two of us moved back toward Snape to stand in the doorway as Snape glared down at us.

"Congratulations, Potter, Your performance at the Black Lake was… inspiring. Gillyweed, am I correct?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry said shortly.

"Ingenious," Snape muttered.

He then turned to walk back into a potions closet, but I knew he wasn't finished as he climbed up a ladder.

"A rather rare herb, gillyweed. Not something found in your everyday garden. Nor is this," he commented as he found what he wanted and climbed back down the ladder, holding up a small bottle. "Know what it is?"

"Bubble juice, sir?" Harry responded somewhat sarcastically and confidently, but I, unfortunately, knew what it was.

"Veritaserum," I answered, shying away from the potion.

"Correct," Snape snapped before turning back to Harry. "Three drops of this and You-Know-Who himself will spill his darkest secrets. The use of this on a student is, regrettably, forbidden. However, should you ever steal from my personal stores again, and my hand might just slip over your morning pumpkin juice,"

I stared widely up at the professor. What was Snape talking about?

"We haven't stolen anything-" Harry began.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed. "Gillyweed might be innocuous, but boomslang skin? Lacewing flies?" Snape named.

"Forgive me, professor, but if we truly were brewing Polyjuice Potion, which we aren't, we wouldn't need you're stores to get what we needed," I told him.

"I am sure you, Miss Sherwood, wouldn't need Polyjuice Potion. However, I know that Potter and your friends are brewing Polyjuice Potion and believe me, I'm going to find out why," Then Snape slammed the door in our faces leaving Harry and I shocked and dumbfounded.

After a moment, Harry and I finally resumed moving down the dark halls in silence before Harry spoke. "Neville took the gillyweed from Snape?" Harry asked, sounding exasperated. "What was he thinking?"

I rolled my eyes. "He was thinking that it was your last resort. And it worked," I told him quickly.

"Yes, but now Snape thinks we've been stealing other things from him," Harry groaned.

"But we haven't," I reminded him. "So we have nothing to worry about, do we?" I asked, raising a mischievous eyebrow at him before continuing forward.

"Hang on. Why did Snape say you didn't need Polyjuice Potion? Does he know about you being a…?"

"A Metamorphmagus?" I asked. "I don't know. My father says he never told anyone, but then again, it is my father,"

"But then who has been making the Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked suddenly.


Author's Note: DUN, Dun, dun!

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