"Mandy, we've got mail!" Arabella called. She opened the window and let Hedwig swoop though to land on the coffee table. "Hello, Hedwig. There's some owl treats in the kitchen, if you want."

Hedwig hooted softly, let Arabella take the letter from her leg, and fluttered through the door.

"I swear that owl understands everything we say." Arabella muttered, running an eye over the letter. "Mandy, it's from Harry!"

"Just a second!"

Arabella opened the letter, which was addressed to Sirius, except his name had been crossed out, and Hermione had written beside it: Mandy and Arabella (and Remus, if you're there).

As it happened, Remus wasn't there – despite the fact the women had a spare room, he insisted on staying in his small cottage down in Kent.

The cottage had belonged to his parents, but both Mandy and Arabella knew that it was more than sentimentalism that kept him there – it was the reluctance to take any form of 'charity', even though their numerous offers had nothing to do with that.

Mandy and Arabella hadn't lived together when they finished Hogwarts – Mandy lived in a Muggle area of London, near the visitors' entrance of the Ministry of Magic and Arabella lived in a flat in Diagon Alley over the magical pet shop where she worked.

However, after the downfall of Voldemort, the three remaining Marauders had gravitated towards each other for comfort, and when Mandy got a promotion and decided she wanted to live in a house (rather than her tiny little flat), she asked her friends if they would like to come along.

Only Arabella accepted, somewhat fed up with the constant comings and goings of Diagon Alley, but Remus was there every other day, so they could catch up and the women could make sure that he was eating properly.

Arabella read the letter through, frowning to herself. She wasn't sure how Harry knew that Crouch had been suffering from the Imperius or a Memory Charm, but she had to admit that, with everything that had been happening, it made sense.

"What's wrong with you?" Mandy asked, appearing from upstairs.

With a heavy sigh, Arabella handed her the letter and leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I feel a headache coming on."

"There's a fresh batch of potion in the kitchen." Mandy told her absently, sinking into the armchair. "Oh dear … Oh, that's not good …"

"You think?" Arabella asked lightly, making her way into the kitchen, where Hedwig was sitting on the back of a chair, her head tucked under her wing.

Sure enough, there were fresh bottles in the medicine cupboard, and Arabella downed one, feeling the pain in her head disappear.

Despite working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Mandy had always loved Potions, and the room off of their kitchen (originally intended to be a pantry) had long-since been transformed into a potions lab.

Arabella returned to the living room, where Mandy was now reading another letter. "Where'd that one come from?"

"It just arrived." Mandy told her, looking up with a smile on her face. "Do you want the good news before or after we talk about Harry?"

"After." Arabella told her firmly. "What do we do?"

Mandy sighed, her smile fading. "I don't think there's anything we can do, Ara. Short of kidnapping Harry and bringing him here – no." She said firmly, as Arabella opened her mouth to say that, actually, that sounded like quite a good idea. "We're not doing that."

"Lily would have wanted us to." Arabella muttered.

"Well, Lily would have wanted Harry to grow up away from those people." Mandy scowled. "Lily would have wanted us to ignore Dumbledore and visit him when he was little. Lily would have wanted us to play a bigger part in Harry's life. Unfortunately, we don't seem to be very good at doing what Lily would have wanted."

"You're the one who said we couldn't do it." Arabella pointed out, bending down to pick up one of her cats, which had wound its way around her legs.

"Well, one of us has to be logical." Mandy said practically. "If Harry doesn't compete in the Third Task, he risks losing his magic – or worse."

"Dammit." Arabella sighed, sitting down again. The Siamese on her lap purred and rubbed its head against her fingers. "I thought that was just hearsay – you know, a dramatic twist for the press."

Mandy shook her head. "No, unfortunately not. I was against the use of the Goblet of Fire from the beginning; I suggested that the three head teachers should select their champion. But oh no, we had to have all the traditions, didn't we?" She stood up, walking over to the window. "Besides, even if we did kidnap Harry, there's no guarantee he'd be safe with us, none at all."

Arabella heaved another sigh. "That's true."

Another of her cats appeared from under one of the sideboards and hopped up on top of it, mewing pitifully.

"I thought you'd fed them this morning." Mandy murmured, petting the creature absently.

"I have." Arabella rolled her eyes fondly. "Mystic's just greedy, so she's trying to wrangle a second breakfast."

Mandy chuckled, gazing out at the back garden. "How many have we got now?"

Arabella paused for a second, counting up. "Five. It was four, but Gran's getting on a bit, and she asked me to take Mr Paws in."

"Mr Paws." Mandy repeated incredulously. "Honestly, Arabella, your grandmother has some strange names for her cats."

"I know." Arabella lazily summoned Harry's letter and scanned it again. The second-to-last sentence jumped out at her.

We were wondering if Wormtail was the one that cursed Crouch, but Mum and Dad we don't think he's powerful enough.

Arabella frowned. The words before 'we don't think' had been scribbled out, but it almost looked like Harry had written 'Mum and Dad'. Well, that can't be right. "I wonder what Harry was going to say."

"When?" Mandy asked.

"At the end," Arabella answered absently, stroking Morgana's head. "When he said he didn't think Peter was powerful enough to …" She broke off abruptly, suddenly realising what she was saying and who she was saying it to.

For a few seconds, the room was filled with a heavy silence. Mandy's hand froze on Mystic's head, but after a few seconds, she resumed her rhythmic stroking. "I noticed that." She said in a deceptively calm voice. "It looked like he said Mum and Dad, which makes no sense – unless he was talking in code for his letter to Sirius and altered it later. The 'we' looked like Hermione's handwriting, as did our names – she probably duplicated it for him and changed some of the words."

"Why Mum and Dad?" Arabella asked cautiously.

Mandy shrugged, still not turning to face her. "Maybe it's not. Maybe that's just what it looks like. It could be abbreviations for 'McGonagall' and 'Dumbledore' for all we know – Harry's handwriting isn't the most legible."

"Gets that from his father." Arabella grinned. When her best friend didn't laugh, she sighed. "Mandy, are you alright?"

"Fine." Mandy said briskly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're not looking at me, your voice sounds funny, and I just mentioned … him." Arabella said softly.

"You don't have to tiptoe around me, Ara." Mandy told her, finally turning around. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Arabella disagreed gently. "You know, you've never really talked about it."

"We talked about it a lot." Mandy protested.

"Yeah, back when we thought he was dead." Arabella hesitated. "Do you … want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly." Mandy admitted. "But I suppose I probably should." She returned to the armchair, and Mystic jumped down from the sideboard and ran over to jump on to her lap. "Since when is she so fond of me?"

"Since you showed her attention." Arabella smirked. "Don't change the subject."

Mandy heaved a heavy sigh. "I don't even know what to say, Ara. I thought he loved me; he stabbed us all in the back. End of story."

"Mandy," Arabella said softly, "that's not the end of the story."

"I hate what he did." Mandy said in a low voice. "I can never forgive what he did. And yet, somehow, I can't stop loving him." She closed her eyes too late to stop the tear that slipped out. "And I feel like such a horrible person for that."

"Mandy …" Moving the Siamese, Arabella got up to perch on the arm of the armchair, wrapping an arm around her best friend's shoulders. "Honey, you're not a horrible person. You were together for over two years, and then you thought he was dead for twelve. You've never had a chance to get over him. It's okay."

"No, it's not." Mandy disagreed, wiping her eyes. "He lied to us, Arabella. A lot. Every time he said his mum was sick and needed him to run an errand for her …"

Arabella groaned. "He was with … Dammit, why didn't we notice?! She was always saying she never saw him enough, and we just took it as an overprotective mother!"

"Because we were all doing the same thing." Mandy said miserably. "We all had secret Order missions and we all lied about what we were doing. But I should have known – it was always so sudden. He'd go and get a cup of tea and come back with a 'letter'." She looked up at Arabella with tear-filled eyes. "And then he'd kiss me goodbye and tell me he loved me and go off to kiss the robes of the man who wanted us all dead!" Her voice, which had risen in frustration, dropped to a whisper again. "It just hurts that our entire relationship was a lie."

One month later, Mr Crouch was still missing and Hermione was, once again, questioning the wisdom of whoever had thought up the Triwizard Tasks.

The hedges of the maze were so tall and the pathways so dark that even the spectators in the Quidditch stands wouldn't be able to see what was happening.

As days went, it hadn't been amazing so far, which didn't exactly fill Hermione with confidence – aside from an incredibly tedious History of Magic exam, that new Skeeter article was ridiculous.

Harry Potter – Disturbed and Dangerous … Hermione had never read such rubbish in her life – and that included every single one of Lockhart's books.

Since when did being a decent person with an open mind translate as dark?

Clearly, Hermione was the only person surprised by this revelation – Ron had read the article with a scowl, but seemed resigned, and Mandy and Arabella – who had come to watch the Third Task (Remus, unfortunately, was kept away by the full moon that night) – had been angry, but not surprised.

The two women were sitting beside Hermione in the stands, and beside them Bill and Mrs Weasley were watching attentively, as the four champions gathered at the entrance of the maze.

The only good thing that had come out of the article was the renewed revelation that Skeeter was somehow getting interviews from the Slytherins, despite not being allowed on the grounds.

This time, however, Hermione was struck by an idea. She thought that maybe – just maybe – she knew what Rita was up to and if she was right the woman was in for a world of trouble.

She had just finished explaining her idea to Ginny into an undertone, when the conversation in the stands lulled to silence.

The first stars had just started to appear, though sunset was still several hours away, and Dumbledore had raised his hands for silence. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Moody and Hagrid, their hats (or in Hagrid's case, his moleskin coat) adorned with red stars, had moved to stand at the outside of the maze.

"They're the security." Mandy whispered to Hermione. "If a champion gets into trouble, they can send up red sparks and they'll be rescued."

"We offered to do it." Arabella added. "But Dumbledore felt we were too close to Harry."

"That's understandable." Hermione murmured.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Bagman boomed. "The third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each – Mr Cedric Diggory and Mr Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"
The Hogwarts students exploded. Behind Hermione, Fred and George whistled loudly.

"In second place, with eighty points – Mr Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!"

Hermione clapped, noticing as she did so that Karkaroff was very quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him applauding, but he seemed subdued for some reason.

"And in third place, with sixty-four points – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy."

As they clapped, more out of politeness than anything else, Harry glanced up and caught Hermione's eye, waving at them.

They all waved back, and Hermione sat back on the bench, taking a deep breath to keep her empathy under control.

"The aim of this task is for the champions to make their way to the centre of this maze, where the Triwizard Cup awaits. Upon touching the cup, these hedges will vanish, and we will discover our winner. On my whistle, Harry, Cedric," Bagman said with a grin. "Three … two … one …" He lifted the whistle to his lips and gave a short, sharp blast.

As Harry and Cedric disappeared into the maze, Hermione sighed, realising that she had been right. There was no way of telling what was going on in there and to whom.

Mandy put an arm around her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Just worried." Hermione whispered. "Someone …"
Mandy squeezed her shoulder. "It'll be alright, Hermione. A couple of hours, and this'll all be over, thank Merlin."

Hermione smiled weakly. "It must've been awful for you."

"Oh, it has." Arabella sighed. "We couldn't do a thing to help him."

"As per usual." Mandy frowned. "I'm genuinely surprised Lily hasn't come back from the dead to curse us."

"Hermione, tell her she's being ridiculous." Lily said absently, from Hermione's other side, as the second whistle blew. She was sitting between Hermione and Ginny, who had left a space between them for the spirit, muttering that she felt weird about sitting 'in' someone, even if she couldn't see them.

But Hermione said nothing this time – she still hadn't told Mandy and Arabella about the Potters, and here and now was hardly the time to do it.

"It wasn't your fault." Hermione said quietly after a few minutes. "You thought Harry was safe – why would you doubt it?"

The third whistle blew, as Mandy shrugged. "I suppose so." She turned to Hermione. "Harry's been training, right?"

Hermione nodded. All four Marauders (because Remus had added a postscript to Mandy and Arabella's reply) had instructed Harry to go nowhere alone or with anyone who wasn't someone he knew wasn't responsible for his current predicament. They had also advised that he armed himself with a secure knowledge of jinxes and hexes just in case.

"Of …" Hermione paused, as a gasp ran around the stands. A silvery glow had appeared in the maze, but it vanished swiftly. "That … Was that a Patronus?"

"It certainly looked like one." Arabella frowned. "Why would anyone cast a Patronus?"

Hermione frowned. "A Boggart, maybe? Harry's Boggart is a Dementor – maybe his first thought was a Patronus."

"I hope he's alright." Mandy fretted. "We hardly need him unconscious …"

"He'll be fine." Arabella soothed. "A light that strong would have to have come from a corporeal – the Boggart would have stumbled at least."

"Speaking of corporeal Patronuses," Ginny commented, "guess what Harry taught Hermione while he was training."

Hermione blushed, as the two women turned to stare at her.

"You too?" Mandy asked. "Impressive. What form does it take?"

"An otter." Hermione mumbled.

"An interesting …" Fred began.

"… form." George finished.

"Boys …" Ginny warned.

"We couldn't help …"

"… overhearing and we …"

"… also couldn't help realising …"

".. that a Patronus-Otter …"

"… or a P-Otter …"

"… is a lengthened version …"

"… of Potter."

"Ginny?" Hermione prompted, hearing two smacks as her sister met her mark. "Of course we're been training." She continued, as though the interruption hadn't happened. "We've been training for weeks."

"We?" Arabella questioned knowingly.

"Well, yeah." Ron said from Hermione's other side. "You didn't think we'd let Harry do it on his own, did you?"

Mandy chuckled. "No, we didn't."

It wasn't just Ron, Hermione and Ginny either. James and Lily had watched over them and given them hundreds of tips and advice that hadn't been in the books.

At that moment a scream cut through the chatter of the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

"That was Fleur." Mandy whispered. "Not Harry."

There was an anxious wait, while Moody abandoned his post to speak to Hagrid, who strode into the maze. When he emerged, he was carrying the Beauxbatons champion, who was lying motionless in his arms.

The judges converged on her, while the crowd sat silent with bated breath.

"Miss Delacour has been hit with a Stunning Spell." Bagman announced. "She is officially out of the Tournament."

"A Stunning Spell?" Hermione repeated. "What in that maze would cast a Stunning Spell?"

"The Skrewts?" Ginny suggested. "Not actually cast it, but I wouldn't be surprised if Hagrid put some in there – their armour's thick enough to cause a rebound."

"That's true." Hermione agreed, though she didn't believe it for one second, and one glance at Mandy and Arabella told her that they didn't either. She glanced at Lily, who was bouncing up and down in her seat, chewing her lip nervously.

Clearing her throat slightly, to get her attention, Hermione shrugged and nodded to the maze. Why aren't you in there?

"I can't do it." Lily whispered. "I can't watch him go through all that in there and not be able to help him … James is with him."

Hermione nodded slightly, leaning into Mandy's embrace as they worried silently about Harry.

More than ten minutes passed without incident and Hermione had just started to relax, when screams rent the air again.

Her heart clenched as the crowd erupted.

"Who is it?"

"What's happening?"

"That's Cedric." Hermione whispered. "I'm sure of it."

"You're sure?" Arabella asked, her face white. "Positive?"

"They might be screaming, but Viktor would still have an accent." Hermione said shakily. "And the voice is too deep to be Harry's – he's still a bit squeaky."
"Hermione!" Ron protested.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not here, Ron; get over it."

A few minutes later, red sparks flew into the air and hovered there. Once again, Hagrid entered the maze, this time accompanied by Professor Flitwick.

But when they returned, it was Viktor who was with him, unconscious just like Fleur.

Again, the judges bent over him and, again, Bagman announced that it was a Stunning Spell that was responsible.

As the Hogwarts students began to buzz, realising that whoever reached the cup first, Hogwarts had won the Tournament, Hermione closed her eyes, carefully measuring her breathing.

Something wasn't right. Nothing in that maze would be able to harm the champions like that; there was no way a rebounding spell had caught both of them.

And besides, if Viktor had been Stunned, how had he sent up the sparks?

She voiced this, and Ginny frowned. "Maybe Harry or Cedric was nearby. They sent up the sparks so that he wouldn't get hurt by something else."

"Mad-Eye would have seen someone else in the maze, Hermione." Mandy assured her. "The only other people in there with Viktor are Harry and Cedric. Now I don't know Cedric, but Harry would never …"

"Neither would Cedric." Hermione said with certainty. "But somebody did."

"Maybe Krum attacked one of them and they stunned him in self-defence." Ron suggested.

Hermione didn't bother berating him. "Maybe." She said diplomatically.

"What's your you-know-what telling you?" Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione hesitated and closed her eyes, letting her empathy expand. She was hit with a barrage of emotions and retreated almost instantly, trying to figure them out.

"Something's not right." She whispered. "There's someone out there … it's excitement, but not … not what the spectators are feeling … they're waiting for something …"

"What?" Ginny asked. "And who?"

Hermione shook her head hopelessly, tears springing to her eyes. "I don't know, Ginny … there's too many people and the emotion's too strong. But whoever put Harry's name in the Goblet is here somewhere and something's going to happen."

"Something's wrong with Karkaroff." Ron said, frowning. "His champion's been stunned – again. Harry said he went mental last time. Why's he so quiet?"

"Doesn't want to draw attention to himself." Hermione guessed. "If I'm right, and Si – Snuffles is right, when this plan comes to completion, Karkaroff's going to bolt. He won't want You-Know-Who back."

"But …" Ginny gasped and leapt to her feet, as did everyone else.

The hedges shimmered and vanished, as Harry and Cedric, the former leaning heavily on the latter, lifted the Cup together.

Cheers of jubilation changed to screams of terror as the two boys vanished, and celebration turned to panic.

In the chaos, Hermione didn't bother with sign language, turning to Lily immediately. "Where did they go?"

"I don't know." Lily admitted shrilly. "James has gone with them. Oh Merlin, Hermione, why the hell does this always happen to my son?!"

Hermione didn't answer, wondering the same thing herself. She pushed her way along the row to the stairs, and flew down them, sprinting out to the middle of the field, where Harry had vanished from.

Voices called after her, but no one attempted to stop her, as she sank to the ground, sobbing. Arms wrapped around her, and she, Mandy and Arabella waited in that three-way hug, unable to move or do anything more than cry.

Almost an hour later, still nothing had changed. The initial panic had died down now, and people in the stands were starting to get restless. The judges were huddled together talking in whispers, and several people were crowded around them, trying to eavesdrop.

Hermione had stopped crying, and had taken to pacing up and down in the place the Cup had vanished from. "We should have known." She said in a low voice.

"Known what?" Mandy asked quietly.

"That this would happen." Hermione said thickly. "Touch of cup brings respite's end. I just assumed it meant the Goblet of Fire. I never …" She fell into silence.

"It's not your fault, dear." Lily said, silent tears streaming down her face. "There was nothing you …" She vanished abruptly, and Hermione stopped, staring at the spot she'd previously occupied.

"Hermione?" Arabella asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Hermione replied, resuming her pacing. Lily was fine, she told herself. There was nothing to worry about.

"This is ridiculous." Mandy stated, getting up from her spot on the ground. "There must be something we can do."

"Mandy …" Arabella hurried after her as she strode off towards the judges.

Hermione smiled slightly. She knew from experience that the two women could be quite protective when it came to Harry – she didn't envy the judges having to deal with them.

She hadn't even glanced at the judges to see if Karkaroff was still with them; if he wasn't, that was the least of their problems.

There was a soft thud and she stopped abruptly again, her pacing interrupted by the sudden arrival of Harry and Cedric, slumped on the ground with the Triwizard Cup.

"Harry …" Hermione whispered, dropping to her knees beside him.

Their return was quite unremarkable, and no one seemed to have noticed them besides Hermione herself. She should shout, scream, gain their attention, but her throat seemed unable to work, and her gaze was fixed on Harry's dirt-streaked, pale face.

"Harry …" Hermione repeated, touching his face. "Harry?"

Harry finally looked up, and she bit back a gasp when she met his eyes. Far from the vibrant emerald orbs they had been that morning, they were now hollow … dead … and seemed to look right through her. "He's back …" he whispered hoarsely.

"What?" Hermione asked.

His hands gripped her robes tightly, pulling her closer, and she could see the small cuts on his face, the tears in his robes. "He's back, Mione … He's back … Cedric … asked me … couldn't leave him …"

It seemed a strange statement, Hermione thought; of course Harry wouldn't leave Cedric wherever they had been – why would he?

James and Lily appeared at that moment, both shaken and crying, but she didn't have time to dwell on the relief of their reappearance, because Harry's mention of Cedric had drawn Hermione's attention to the fact that the Hufflepuff hadn't spoken – or, indeed, moved – since their return.

Her heart fell into her stomach, when she realised that not only was Cedric very still, but his eyes were wide open, and they were staring up at the stars unseeing.

With a shaky hand, Hermione reached out to touch his face, letting her fingers trail over his cold skin to his neck, She found nothing, no sign of life beating beneath them.

He was dead.

As soon as that hit her, with all the force of a bludger, she screamed, her voice echoing through the dark grounds.

Mandy and Arabella reached them first, and Mandy checked Harry over with trembling hands as Arabella bent over the young man beside them.

Harry had yet to release Hermione's robes, and she gently disentangled his grip, taking his hand instead, feeling it clamp down on her fingers, clinging to her like a lifeline. His gaze had moved back to Cedric now, staring at him in a mixture of bewilderment and horror.

"Harry!" Mandy called softly. "Harry, sweetheart, can you tell me what happened?"

"He's back …" Harry repeated shakily, although he didn't seem to have heard her. "Voldemort … he's back …"

"I think that's fairly obvious, Harry." Arabella said dryly, straightening up. "I'm not expert, Talon, but I'd say that's the … Shit."

"What?" Mandy asked, still trying to get Harry's attention.

"Amos is coming." Arabella said, moving forward.

Mandy looked up and cursed under her breath. "Hermione, stay with him. Don't go anywhere." She got to her feet as well, and the two women swept away to intercept Cedric's parents.

A moment later, their anguished cries reached the two and Hermione flinched, pushing her empathy down as far as she could. She could feel Harry shaking beside her and moved closer, wrapping her other arm around his shoulders. She wanted to give him words of comfort, but everything got lost on the way to her mouth as she battled against the fear and sadness that swirled around the castle, making her head pound even with her shields.

"It's alright, Miss Granger – help me get him up to the castle."

Hermione looked up at Professor Moody, furrowing her brow at the strange expression on his face. It looked like concern, but it seemed out of place on the grizzled old auror. "Mandy and Arabella said not to go anywhere."
"He needs to lie down." Moody insisted. "Come on."

Hermione hesitated only a second more. Moody was an ex-auror, and running a critical eye over her best friend, she could see that his robes and trousers were ripped on one leg, exposing bloody skin. Lying here on the ground was not going to do him any good.

They hauled Harry to his feet and Hermione slipped under his arm, as they half-carried him into the castle, hearing him answer Moody's questions in a dull monotone, clearly in shock. She was busy trying not to look down at Harry's leg, and was trying not to pay attention to what actually happened – not yet – when Moody's voice cut through her self-imposed mental block.

"You duelled with the Dark Lord?"

Hermione let out a quiet moan, her heart thudding so loud that she was sure the other two could hear it.

"Got away …" Harry muttered. "My wand … did something funny … saw my mum and dad …"

Hermione frowned, trying to work out what that might be. She glanced at James and Lily, but they were thoroughly distracted, Lily by sobbing hysterically, James by attempting in vain to comfort her.

"In here, lad. Come and sit down." Moody opened the door to his office and ushered the two Gryffindors inside. Hermione guided Harry to a chair and sat him down, glancing around at the various Dark Detectors. On any other day, she would be fascinated, but right now her attention was solely on her best friend.

Moody produced a flask of Pepper-Up Potion and tipped it against Harry's lips. "Drink it … you'll feel better … Come on, Harry … you'll be alright."

Harry swallowed the potion and coughed, steam pouring from his ears, but his eyes seemed to focus again, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Voldemort's back, Harry?" Moody questioned. "How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and from me." Harry muttered.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" Moody asked in a whisper.

"Blood." Harry raised his arm, and Hermione saw that his robes were torn, revealing a fine cut in the crook of his elbow.

"He took my protection," Lily whispered, tears still streaming down her face. "I'm sorry I left so suddenly, Hermione – I couldn't help it; something was pulling me."

Hermione nodded slightly to show she'd heard, but said nothing, as Moody continued in a hiss.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yeah, loads of them." Harry shivered and Hermione rubbed his arm, but Moody didn't seem to notice.

"How did he treat them? Did he forgive them?"
Hermione barely had time to contemplate what a strange question that was, when the remaining colour drained from Harry's face and he fought to stand up. "There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here at the school! They put my name in the Goblet; made sure I got through to the end!"
The blood in Hermione's veins turned to ice, but Moody pushed Harry back into his seat. "I know who the Death Eater is."

"Karkaroff?" Harry guessed wildly. "Where is he? Have you got him?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, about to remind Harry that they'd already dismissed Karkaroff as a suspect numerous times, when Moody laughed darkly, a laugh that sent shivers down Hermione's spine.

"Karkaroff?" He asked, with a kind of dark amusement. "He fled tonight when he felt the Mark burn. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them … but I doubt he'll get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Hermione …" James said slowly. "Something's not right."

But Hermione didn't need James to tell her that. She finally released her empathy, skilfully avoiding the pain emanating from Harry, and landed upon the anticipatory excitement that she had picked up earlier in the evening.

It was coming from Moody.

Hermione wanted to believe that it was adrenaline – that the paranoid ex-auror didn't march to the beat of the same drum as everyone else – but something stopped her.

Sirius's words floated back to her. "Never used Unforgivables if he could help it."

And yet he'd willingly demonstrated them in front of fourth years? Admittedly, it was only on spiders, but surely the principle was the same.

And why was Moody calling Voldemort 'The Dark Lord' all of a sudden? She'd never heard anyone calling him that … except Karkaroff … and Snape …

A Death Eater … and someone he thought to be an ally …

This was not the real Mad-Eye Moody, and a glance at the Potters told her that they had realised the same thing.

"Karkaroff's gone?" Harry repeated, oblivious to the danger they were both in. "Then he didn't put my name in the Goblet?"
"Professor Moody," Hermione said shakily, gripping her wand under her robes. "Maybe I should get Harry to the Hospital Wing." She stood to help Harry to his feet, but Moody drew his wand and pointed it at them.

"Sit down, Miss Granger."

Hermione sank to her knees again, her attention now focussed fully on the wand aimed in her direction.

"No, Potter," 'Moody' said, one eye fixed on Hermione. "It was I who did that."

"No, you didn't." Harry murmured. "You didn't do that … You can't have done …"

"He's in shock." Lily whimpered. "Oh, Harry …"

"I assure you that I did." 'Moody' told him. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew from her hand, and Harry's did the same. The fake Moody caught them, never lowering his own. "He forgave them, did he? The Death Eaters who went free? Who escaped Azkaban?"

"He's underestimating you." Lily told her darkly. "He doesn't think you'll have another wand. You never underestimate your opponent, Hermione – he's going to pay for that. Take … him … down."
Hermione shivered slightly. Over the last year, she had seen the Marauder, and she had seen the mother. But now she saw the powerful witch who had been such a threat to the Dark side, and she wasn't a woman Hermione wanted to get on the wrong side of.

"What?" Harry asked blankly.

"Did he forgive them?!" 'Moody' asked impatiently. "Did he forgive the scumbags who never even tried to find him?! Did he forgive the worthless pieces of crap that escaped Azkaban?! The faithless filth who were brave enough to run around in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled like cowardly rats at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky?!"

"You fired …?" Harry repeated weakly. "What are you talking about?"

Whatever happened that night had seriously shaken, Harry – he was normally more on the ball than this. Hermione's mind was racing, unable to move when 'Moody's' magical eye was fixed on her. So he was at the World Cup … must've been in the Top Box too … but who? Where's the real Moody? And how did no one notice?

"I told you, Harry." The imposter said quietly. "If there's one thing I hate, it's a Death Eater that walked free …"

Hermione shivered as an insane smile lit 'Moody's' face and she shifted closer to Harry, tightening her arm around his waist.

"Tell me he hurt them, Harry." 'Moody' whispered, looking quite manic. "Tell me he punished them … tortured them … told them that I alone remained faithful …"

"I can't have been you …" Harry whispered.

Hermione felt like screaming, warning Harry that this wasn't Moody, but she couldn't. She forced herself to look away from the wand pointed at her and at 'Moody's' face instead.

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did."

The magical eye finally left Hermione and rolled to look at Harry. Very carefully, she let her hand drift down to her ankle where the second wand lay tucked away, keeping her body very, very still.

"Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragon? I did. It wasn't easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks – you couldn't do too well, or Dumbledore would get suspicious. I just needed to get you into that maze, preferably with the head start, and then I could dispatch of the other champions."
Hermione fought the urge to shiver again. If this man was as insane as he was acting, Fleur and Viktor were lucky they were only stunned.

"The second task … that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint…"

"Cedric gave me that clue." Harry disagreed, and Hermione grimaced.

Don't antagonise him, Harry. Just nod and go along with it.

"And who do you think tipped Diggory off?" Moody asked. "I did. Decent people are so easy to manipulate."

Hermione felt a surge of anger – whether it was coming from Harry or herself, she didn't know – and gripped the wand in its holster, but she couldn't act yet. She was taking a huge chance anyway – the wand was currently in her off-hand, and it wasn't technically hers, so she had no idea how it would respond.

But Cedric … Cedric had been a decent person – a decent person who had been murdered in cold blood, apparently for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You were in that lake so long, Potter, I thought you'd drowned. But the judges took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you highly for it, and I breathed again. You had an easy time of it in that maze tonight, of course. I was able to see through the hedges, to curse many of the obstacles out of your way."

Despite the situation, Hermione couldn't help feeling a small twinge of annoyance that the imposter had so little faith in Harry's abilities.

"I stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum so he would finish Diggory off and your path would be clear."

So that was what had happened. In that case, either Cedric had fought off Krum, or Harry had come upon them to help.

Not that it matters now.

"The Dark Lord failed to kill you, Potter, and he so wanted to." 'Moody' whispered. "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds that I have done it for him."

"You dare …" James growled.

"I delivered you to him … the thing he needed above all … and then I killed you for him … I will be honoured above all other Death Eaters … his dearest, his closest … closer than a son …"

Hermione's hand tightened around her wand, but with 'Moody's' still aimed in her direction, she would be dead before she raised it high enough to utter a curse.

"The Dark Lord and I have much in common." The imposter told them. "Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers … both suffered the indignity of being named after those fathers …"

Hermione's eyes widened. Crouch! That's who this is – it's Barty Crouch Jr! He must have somehow escaped Azkaban without anyone realising … But how …?

"And both of us had the pleasure – the very real pleasure – of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad." Harry whispered. "You're mad!"

"Harry …" Hermione whimpered, unable to stop herself. "Don't …"

"Mad, am I?" 'Moody' asked with a cackle. "We'll see who's mad, Potter! The Dark Lord is back! He is back, Potter, you did not conquer him – and now I conquer you!"

His wand swung around to aim at Harry's chest, causing Lily to scream, darting forward to shield her son from a curse she couldn't possible hope to block.

Hermione saw her chance and took it. Drawing the second wand, she swung it upwards. "STUPEFY!"

It may not have been her wand and it hardly responded to her the way hers did, but it did the job; a beam of red light left the tip of the wand and struck 'Moody' directly in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground.

At that moment, the door to the office burst open, revealing Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, looking furious, which soon changed to confusion. Hermione took the opportunity to shove her second wand away and grab her own and Harry's, which had rolled towards them.

Professor McGonagall rushed over to them. "Miss Granger, Mr Potter, are you alright?"

"We're fine, Professor." Hermione assured her, though couldn't stop her voice from shaking.

"Come along, Mr Potter." McGonagall whispered, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come along … Hospital Wing."

"No." Dumbledore disagreed. "He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand. Harry needs to know who put him through his ordeal tonight and why. Recovery can only come with acceptance and acceptance can only come with understanding."

"Moody?" Harry murmured in shock. "How can it have been Moody?"

"Harry, that's not Moody." Hermione told him gently, slipping his wand back into his hand. "Is it, Headmaster?"

"It is not." Dumbledore confirmed, with a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. "When did you realise, Miss Granger?"

"Just now." Hermione whispered. "When he was referring to You-Know …" She stopped, catching Harry's eye.

If they were all afraid of a name, how could they possibly hope to beat him?

"V-V-Voldemort." She said, stuttering over it slightly.

Harry gave her the first real smile (albeit a small one) she'd seen all evening, and pulled her closer so she was under his arm rather than the other way round.

"He was calling Voldemort 'the Dark Lord'." Hermione finished, resting her head on Harry's shoulder. "I've only ever heard Death Eaters … well, people I would assume were Death Eaters calling him that. Plus, he demonstrated the Unforgivables and Snuffles said that he never used them if he could help it." She could see McGonagall and Snape exchanging a confused glance, but didn't elaborate. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, when did you realise?"

"The real Alastor Moody would never have removed Harry from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment I saw you both gone, I knew."
It was a strange answer, Hermione thought. After all, Dumbledore hadn't told them not to move – Mandy and Arabella had. And they'd hardly conferred with Dumbledore first; they hadn't had time.

Still, Hermione accepted it, hanging her head. "I should have made Harry stay there."

"Miss Granger, you had no reason to distrust him." Dumbledore said kindly. "Now …" he bent down and retrieved a set of keys and a hip flask from 'Moody's' limp form. "Severus, please go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky, then fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you have. Minerva, kindly go down to the pumpkin patch at Hagrid's hut. Take the dog waiting there up to my office and tell him I will be with him shortly. Fetch Amanda and Arabella from the Hospital Wing, do the same thing, then come back here."

If either teacher was confused, they didn't show it; simply swept from the room without a word.

Hermione watched, strangely detached, as Dumbledore opened Moody's trunk, compartment by compartment. Usually, she would have been bursting with questions about the article – she'd never seen a multi-dimensional trunk before – but she couldn't find her voice. However, when Dumbledore opened the seventh and last compartment, she and Harry couldn't hold back a horrified gasp.

They were looking into what looked like a dungeon and, lying about ten feet below, chunks missing from his grizzly hair, thin and starved, was the real Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore climbed into the trunk and checked him over. "Stunned … controlled by Imperius … very weak … Of course they would have needed to keep him alive. Hermione, throw down the impostor's cloak; he's freezing."

Rather reluctantly, Hermione left Harry's embrace and retrieved the cloak, tossing it down to her headmaster. "Will he be alright?"

"Madam Pomfrey will need to take a look at him, but he's in no immediate danger." Dumbledore tucked the cloak around Moody and clambered out of the trunk again. He picked the flask up again and took the lid off, sniffing it carefully. "Polyjuice Potion. You see the simplicity of it and the brilliance. Moody never does drink from anything other than his hip flask; he's famous for it. The impostor needed to keep the real Moody close, of course. He needed hair for the Potion, you see the gaps?" He glanced down into the trunk again. "But I think that, in all the excitement tonight, our impostor may not have taken his potion as frequently as he should have done. On the hour, every hour. We shall see." He conjured two chairs and motioned for Hermione to take a seat next to Harry.

Hermione did so, glancing at her best friend, who was white and shaking, staring at the body on the floor. She rested her head on his shoulder again, and was relieved when he wrapped an arm around her, both accepting the comfort she offered, and doling out his own.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." She whispered. "I should have listened to Mandy and Arabella and kept us there."

"Hermione, stop it." Lily soothed. "Moody was a well-respected auror; not even we realised something was wrong until just now. Not even Dumbledore realised and he's a bloody Legilimens. Stop blaming yourself."

Hermione flicked her little finger. Thank you. She wasn't sure what it was – maybe it was the shock, maybe it was that ever-present memory of that Halloween night – but she did not want to tell Dumbledore about her abilities just yet.

For a few minutes, they all stared at the fake Moody. Suddenly, his appearance started changing; the scars were disappearing, the fake eye had popped out, the nose became whole again. And lying before them was a man with sandy-blond hair, who resembled …

Hermione heard Harry gasp, but she merely shook her head sadly. She was right – somehow Crouch Jr had escaped Azkaban without anyone – even the other inmates – noticing.

Snape reappeared in the doorway with Winky at his heels and McGonagall just behind him. "Crouch!" He exclaimed. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens!" McGonagall said faintly.

Winky peered around Snape's robes and shrieked. "Master Barty, Master Barty; what is you doing here?!" She flung herself forwards onto him. "You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

"He is only stunned, Winky." Dumbledore assured the elf. "Step aside please. Severus, the potion?"

Snape pulled a clear vial out of his pocket. Veritaserum, Hermione's mind said absently, the truth potion. Can only be fought by very powerful witches and wizards or, failing that, Dark Magic. She sighed inwardly. Curse her brains – even in a situation like this, they were still running at full-speed.

Between Snape and Dumbledore, they managed to get Crouch Jr. into a sitting position and forced a few drops of Veritaserum into his mouth.

Snape and Dumbledore stood back and the latter pointed his wand at Crouch Jr.'s chest. "Enervate."