A/N: This chapter was very hard going and I hope I've done the GoF canon justice with it. There was so much in canon that you all already know but couldn't possibly be excluded that this chapter seemed to get longer and longer and more and more pointless until I rewrote a large section of it. Thank you so much for the reviews from last chapter, I passed the 300 mark and am almost at 350! It's so amazing, you have no idea how much I value your words This story will be finishing in the next chapter or so but I think, though I don't promise, that there may be a one-shot set after it. Onto a very blatant plug now, and I'll put this in bold because I know many of you probably skip my rambling unimportant A/N's: I posted a Tom-centric fic yesterday and it's rather humorous. I think you'll enjoy it. It's called 'The Night Before the Morning After' and it's all about why Tom Riddle enjoys Valentine's Day. It's not fluffy, I promise. Anything but, actually. It's my favourite type of Tom. Anyway, I'll let you get on with this chapter, I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think and hopefully I'll have the next chapter posted by Sunday, though I promise nothing.
Eclairs.
by Flaignhan.
"Professor -" Hermione didn't know how to continue. There were so many things to say but she couldn't get any of them to form themselves into coherent words.
Dumbledore turned to Hermione, his blue eyes skimming his surroundings. "Where's Harry?"
"Professor Moody took him up to the castle, he -"
Dumbledore's face became steel-like and his attention left Hermione, who stood open mouthed, the next word almost formed on her lips but never quite managing to escape.
"Minerva! Severus! With me!"
The three of them set off towards the castle with surprising speed, considering one of them was well over a hundred years old and another had to be in her seventies.
Hermione's stomach dropped. Why was Dumbledore so concerned about the fact that Harry was with Moody? Moody was a trained auror, after all, one of the best. Most of Azkaban was full because of him. Why would Dumbledore run from two students the way he just had because of Alastor Moody?
Mr and Mrs Diggory had rushed down from the stands and were standing by Cedric's stretcher, clearly distraught over what had happened to him. Mrs Diggory was fighting tears, brushing the hair away from Cedric's face while Mr Diggory seemed dumbstruck.
What had happened to him?
Hermione moved a little closer to see if she could overhear what Madam Pomfrey was saying. The nurse was fussing around, trying to get the unconscious Cedric to wake up so he could drink some of her healing potions.
"- looks like he's been crucio'ed."
Mrs Diggory let out a sob.
"By who?" Mr Diggory demanded. "By him?" he was looking towards Viktor who had regained consciousness and was now talking to his parents, looking quite confused.
"There's no way to tell yet," Madam Pomfrey told him. "But placing blame will not help him now."
"How severe is it?" Hermione barely heard Mrs Diggory's question, spoken in a fearful whisper. "He's going to be all right, isn't he? Tell me he's going to be all right!" she broke down into tears and Mr Diggory put his arm around her.
"It's too soon to tell. He needs rest, then when he wakes we can give him some potions that will help him to heal more quickly. We should move him to the hospital wing."
"Do that as soon as, Poppy, then I'll send the students back to their common rooms," Professor Sprout told her, concern painted across her usually smiling face. "You need any extra wands? I can get the prefects to -"
"We should be fine, Pomona," Madam Pomfrey told her. "Mr Krum, I'd like you to come to the hospital wing, you need to be checked over."
Viktor nodded and got to his feet. "Is he all right?" he asked, his accent thicker than ever with his confusion.
"We need you to tell us exactly what happened in there," Madam Pomfrey told him.
"I'll tell you what happened," Mr Diggory growled, looking at Krum.
"Amos, you weren't there!" Mrs Diggory told him forcefully, and Mr Diggory backed down. Krum retreated slightly.
"I don't really know vot happened," Viktor said. His mother and father were standing behind him now. "My head, it – it vent strange. I attacked him vith the cruciatus, and I attacked Fleur, but I vould never do such a thing, I have no idea what happened. One minute I vas searching for the cup, the next my vand vas on Fleur. It felt like I wasn't in control of my own body, like my brain had switched off."
"I'm not having him in the same hospital wing as my son!" Mr Diggory said forcefully.
"I can go back to the Durmstrang ship," Krum offered. "I am fine, honestly, see to it that Diggory makes a full recovery, I am unimportant."
"To the hospital wing then," Madam Pomfrey said, waving her wand and summoning Fleur's stretcher to her side.
Fleur was sleeping soundly. Hermione surmised that Madam Pomfrey had probably given her some dreamless sleep potion and that she would be absolutely fine. As for Cedric...
Madam Pomfrey, her patients, and their families made their way across the lawn to the doors of the castle. Once they were inside, Professor Sprout magnified her voice.
"All students are to return to their common rooms. No student is permitted to leave their common room without express permission from their Heads of house, who will be speaking with you shortly. Don't run, don't push, don't shove, and don't do anything stupid. Now, you may all go."
Hermione looked at Ron.
"He'll be all right," Ron supplied. "He'll be fine."
"Go on, off you go," Professor Sprout chivvied them towards the mass of students that was moving steadily closer to the entrance hall.
"But Harry -" Ron began.
"Professor Dumbledore is dealing with Mr Potter," she said firmly. "Now back to your common room, no arguments Weasley, or you, Miss Granger."
Hermione had been about to make a plea but was silenced before she could even make a sound.
"Weasley! Granger! You may go to the hospital wing, Mr Potter will meet you there. Weasley, your mother and brother are already there."
"Is he -"
"I need to speak to the rest of Gryffindor house," McGonagall interrupted. "I will be with you in the hospital wing as soon as I have done so."
Hermione nodded and grabbed Ron by the wrist, dragging him along the corridor, away from the other Gryffindors. Once they reached a clear section they began sprinting towards the hospital wing. Hermione had honestly never run so fast in all of her life. Her only thoughts were of Cedric and Harry and she concentrated on them, rather than the stitch in her side and the fact that her breath was coming in short gasps that didn't provide the oxygen she really needed.
They skidded to a halt outside of the hospital wing, and just as Ron was about to burst in, Hermione grabbed the back of his t shirt and pulled him back. "Cedric's in there," she said, "you can't go bursting in, just calm down. Madam Pomfrey'll probably want to throw us out so don't give her any reason to."
Ron nodded and pushed the door open quietly. The curtains were drawn around the end bed and Hermione assumed Cedric must be there. Her assumption was confirmed when Amos Diggory poked his head out from behind the curtains to see who had entered.
"Is he all right?" Hermione asked softly.
"We don't know yet," he replied, and disappeared back behind the curtain.
"Have you heard anything?" asked Bill, who was sitting with Mrs Weasley next to an empty bed which had, she guessed, been reserved for Harry. Fleur was sleeping quietly on the opposite side of the ward, her mother, sister and Madam Maxime sitting at her side, whispering quietly in French.
"McGonagall told us we could come here. Sprout sent everyone back to their common rooms, McGonagall's just gone to Gryffindor tower."
Bill nodded, taking the information in.
"Have you seen Harry?" Hermione asked, taking the seat next to him.
Bill shook his head. "McGonagall told us he'd be here shortly. He's in Dumbledore's office."
"Is he okay?" Ron asked, perching himself on the end of the bed.
"I think so," Bill answered, "he can't be too badly injured if he's talking to Dumbledore. Dumbledore'd have him in here if he was seriously hurt."
"Hasn't that poor boy been through enough already?" Mrs Weasley mopped at her eyes which were brimming with tears. "It's just one thing after another, it's not fair."
"He'll be all right," Bill told her. "He's always all right. He's a tough kid. Whatever it is, he'll pull through."
Hermione's eyes were fixed on the closed curtains at the end of the ward. She could faintly hear the gentle sobbing of Mrs Diggory and suddenly wanted to be back in the Gryffindor common room. She felt like she was imposing on something personal, even though she had as much right to be in the hospital wing as anyone did.
Finally, after far too long, Harry limped through the door of the hospital wing, Professor Dumbledore walking along side him, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder in case his tired legs gave out under him. Sirius followed in his dog form, tail between his legs. He trotted over to the bed and pulled the covers back with his teeth. Harry offered a grateful smile, took the pyjamas the Madam Pomfrey offered to him and pulled the screens shut around him once Ron, Hermione, Bill and Mrs Weasley had vacated their seats.
"Professor," Madam Pomfrey was eyeing Sirius with distaste, "what exactly -"
"He will stay with Harry, Poppy."
Madam Pomfrey didn't question him, and instead bustled off to fetch some potions for Harry.
Dumbledore turned to the rest of them. "I do not wish for you to question Harry tonight. He has been through enough. He will tell you when he feels comfortable. You may stay here with him tonight, if he wishes it, but he needs rest. Please don't make a fuss."
"Of course, Headmaster. Can you tell us...?" Mrs Weasley trailed off.
"I have several urgent matters to attend to, however, you will find out soon enough. I can only ask that you be patient, Molly."
Harry opened the screens again and clambered into bed. "Voldemort's back," he said blankly once he was settled. "Properly back."
Mrs Weasley gasped. Bill's expression turned stony and Hermione felt her stomach drop.
"The cup was a Portkey, took me to a graveyard, Voldemort got his body back. When I left the maze, I saw Krum torturing Cedric, just in that last second before the Portkey worked. I was about to go back, but then Wormtail..."
Ron clenched his fist.
"Is Cedric all right?" Harry asked Dumbledore.
"We don't know yet," Dumbledore sighed heavily, "he needs plenty of rest, as do you. I'll return later."
Harry nodded and Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a thick purple potion. "Drink up," she said. "You'll be asleep in no time."
"Professor!" Bill called after him.
Dumbledore turned around.
"Is he really back?"
A grave expression descended on Albus Dumbledore's features. The usual twinkle in his eye was absent and he seemed considerably older than he had been before the start of the task. "Yes."
Harry drank his potion while Ron collapsed into a chair, letting out a sigh. "If I'd got back sooner," Harry said, his voice cracking slightly, "if I hadn't been so focused on the cup..." he looked down to the end bed where the curtains were still closed.
Mrs Weasley sat on the edge of his bed and pulled him into a comforting hug. "You did everything you could dear, I'm sure he's going to be absolutely fine. Come on now, get some rest. Think of something happy. Why don't you think about how you're going to spend your winnings?"
Harry pulled away from the hug, his eyelids already drooping. He shifted down in the bed and laid his head down on the pillow. "I don't want the winnings, I don't deserve them..." he yawned tiredly and his eyes flickered shut behind his glasses. Mrs Weasley carefully removed them and set them carefully down on the bedside table. She smoothed the faint creases out of his covers and watched him worriedly as he slept.
"I can't believe he's back," Hermione whispered.
"I suppose it was only a matter of time," Ron reasoned, his chin resting on his chest, lips turned down at the corners.
"D'you think there's going to be another war?" Hermione turned to Bill who shrugged.
"Who can say? I doubt his ambitions have changed but...it was bad last time, but loads of his followers are in Azkaban so he hasn't got the resources he had last time. Doesn't mean to say he won't recruit..."
"There's still a lot that aren't in Azkaban, though. The World Cup showed that. Lucius Malfoy..."
"I wonder if Sirius Black had anything to do with it, he was You-Know-Who's right hand man, they still haven't caught him. If You-Know-Who's keeping him hidden then they'll never find him."
"Er yeah, maybe," Ron agreed, rubbing his arm absent mindedly.
Hermione reached over the side of her chair to scratch the great black dog behind the ear, hoping he wouldn't show any kind of reaction. Sirius was sitting obediently next to Harry's bed, his side resting against the leg of Hermione's chair.
The next forty minutes passed in more or less complete silence. Gabrielle had fallen asleep in the bed next to Fleur's and her mother was snoozing in her chair, head resting against the clinically white wall behind her. Madam Maxime had left after being assured by Madam Pomfrey that Fleur would be fine and there was absolutely nothing she could do to make her recovery any faster. Mrs Diggory had either fallen asleep or had run out of tears to cry, because there was now no sound from the end bed, except for when Madam Pomfrey went to check on Cedric every now and then.
The peace was interrupted by the sound of shouts coming from along the corridor. Mrs Weasley looked towards the doorway, her expression stern. "What in the name of Merlin do they think they're doing?" she hissed, "they'll wake Harry!"
"What are they arguing about?" Bill asked, frowning slightly as he tried to concentrate on what exactly was being said.
"You should never have brought it into the castle!"
"That's McGonagall," Bill whispered, "definitely."
"I had to do it, Minerva! As Minister for Magic I have the right to decide -"
"And Professor Dumbledore, as Headmaster, has a right to decide whether Dementors are allowed on school grounds without his permission!"
Mrs Weasley got to her feet and was just about to walk out to the corridor when Cornelius Fudge, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape burst into the hospital wing.
"Where is Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded, looking around at each glaring person.
"He's not here, Minister," Mrs Weasley told him sharply, "this is a hospital wing and there are injured students who are supposed to be resting. I suggest you try the Headmaster's office if you wish to speak with him."
Fudge opened and closed his mouth several times at what was, quite clearly a telling off from Mrs Weasley. Before he could say anything, however, Professor Dumbledore strode into the hospital wing.
Everything seemed to happen in such a rush. Hermione could barely focus on what was being said. Something about Crouch, a Dementor, Crouch getting the Dementor's Kiss. That piece of information alone made her want to flee the room and find somewhere private to vomit. The thought of that happening inside the castle was too much to bear.
The thing that concerned Hermione the most was Fudge's sheer stupidity. How could he go against Dumbledore? How could he be so blind? If You-Know-Who was back then it was paramount that the Minister for Magic accepted it and got to work. He should have been back in his office already, sending the appropriate owls, preparing a statement for the Daily Prophet so the innocent people who would undoubtedly become innocent victims could prepare themselves, put up extra wards, be more security conscious He shouldn't be denying it just because his little bubble was perfect as it was right now and he couldn't bear the thought of shattering it.
Hermione had never had so little respect for someone. The argument with Dumbledore, the way he laughed in his face when Dumbledore gave him clear, rational instructions, it was not the behaviour of a leader, it was the behaviour of a spoilt, idiotic child.
Once Fudge had stormed off, his lime green bowler hat positively spinning as he turned it over and over in his nervous hands, Dumbledore sent Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey away, one to fetch Hagrid and Madam Maxime, the other to find and treat the real (why would he not be real? There were still so many questions,) Alastor Moody. Bill left almost immediately after on Dumbledore's instructions to alert his father, who would then reach out to those trustworthy enough in the Ministry, those who would know Dumbledore wasn't a liar. Those who knew that Harry wasn't mad (she could have hexed Fudge to within an inch of his life after he had mentioned Rita Skeeter's article and seemed to take it as fact).
The shriek from Mrs Weasley when Sirius transformed almost gave Hermione a heart attack. Sirius also left the hospital wing after being instructed to 'alert the old crowd' and lie low at Professor (well, not anymore) Lupin's. Harry didn't want him to leave, and Hermione could see why. Sirius was the closest thing he had to a parent, and at a time like this, after all he had suffered this evening (Hermione was still unsure how badly he had suffered) he had to leave him. It simply wasn't fair.
"Severus, you know what I must ask of you, if you are ready?" Dumbledore said, turning to Snape, his expression grave.
"I am ready," Snape replied, and swept from the room, his robes billowing around him.
Dumbledore rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Harry, finish your potion and get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow things will already be in motion. If we prepare ourselves thoroughly then we stand a strong chance of winning. If you'll excuse me, I must speak with the Diggorys."
Harry nodded and took his potion from Mrs Weasley. Dumbledore strode to the end of the hospital wing and stepped inside the curtains.
Hermione shivered as a chilly draught swept caught her arm. Looking up, she saw that one of the windows was open. She got up and walked over to it, spotting it just before she reached the window sill.
A beetle was sitting just outside of the window on the small stone ledge. Hermione froze, hoping that she hadn't been noticed. She conjured a small glass jar with a wave of her wand, looking over to see that Mrs Weasley had enveloped Harry in another hug. Ron's was biting his nails worriedly, staring into space. With another quick wave of her wand, Hermione had cast an unbreakable breaking charm on the jar. It was with a great deal of satisfaction that Hermione scooped up the beetle in one swift movement, so quick that Rita had no idea what was happening and no hope of transforming before she was unceremoniously dumped inside the jar.
Hermione tore a few leaves and a twig off of the tree just outside the window and placed them inside the jar before sealing the lid. She then placed a silencing charm on the jar, so Rita could partake in no more eavesdropping, and then added a respiratory charm, which would allow the old hag to breathe. She had considered 'forgetting' this charm, but her conscience overpowered her bitterness and she jabbed her wand at the jar.
She pulled the window shut, wincing as it made a loud slamming noise. "Sorry," she said, when Harry, Mrs Weasley and Ron jumped, turning their attention to her.
Mrs Weasley dabbed at her eyes and smoothed Harry's sheets out, a nervous habit which Hermione could sense would happen many times that night.
Harry sunk back onto his pillows and was fast asleep before Hermione was even back in her seat.
A few moments later, Dumbledore drew the curtains around Cedric's bed and left the hospital wing with Mr and Mrs Diggory, presumably to speak with them in his office. Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey was bustling around Cedric, casting healing charms on him and shaking her head disapprovingly.
Hermione approached cautiously, not wanting to catch the witch in a bad mood. "Is he going to be okay?" Hermione asked timidly.
"Yes, I believe so. Professor Dumbledore contacted St Mungo's and they sent back details of some charms that will help him. He should be fine. He just needs to rest. He's been through a lot this evening. They all have." Her tone was unusually soft and she stepped back from the bed, having cast the final charm. She looked tired. Her usually neat hair was hanging loose from its bun, strands of hair trailing down the side of her face. There were bags under her tired brown eyes and Hermione felt a great deal of sympathy for the witch. Despite being very stern, very bossy and sometimes a little brash, Madam Pomfrey was an uncommonly caring person, healing students and not caring whether they ended up getting sick of her, just as long as they were healed. It took a great deal of strength to be that kind of person and Hermione admired her for it. It was the sort of person that Dumbledore was. Students first, reputation not even appearing on the list of importance.
"May I sit with him?" Hermione asked.
"Of course, dear, just make sure you go back to Harry when his parents come back, it's difficult for them."
Hermione nodded and sat in the seat in front of the bedside cabinet next to Cedric's bed. His hand was laying on the edge of the bed, open slightly, as though he wanted someone to hold it, so Hermione did just that. She could feel the faint pulse in his fingers, slow, tired, weak, and tried to concentrate on something else. Something that wasn't the way that his blonde, bordering on brown hair seemed to have lost its colour a little. Something other than the fact that he was so still he could have been petrified. Petrified was a much more pleasant word than 'dead'. Mandrakes couldn't cure death, but they could cure petrification. Hermione was living proof. The rosiness that normally coloured his cheeks was absent and his lips were still, a straight line. No charming smile graced them, no pout, no slight twitch at the corner while Hermione was quietly going insane, they were just lips, and Hermione found it difficult to believe that they were the lips that had kissed her just twenty four hours ago.
She was woken, though she didn't know when she had fallen asleep, by a gentle tapping on her hand. As she opened her eyes she felt a frown on her eyebrows that had evidently formed while she had still been asleep. It was dark in the hospital wing. Mrs Diggory was sleeping on the next bed along from Cedric, while Amos Diggory was snoring quietly in a chair in between the two.
Hermione suddenly felt incredibly guilty that she had not obeyed Madam Pomfrey (unintentionally, but still) and had intruded on this private time in the Diggorys' lives.
She looked down at her hand, to try and discover what had been tapping her, or whether it had just been a dream. Her hand was still in Cedric's and his index finger was tapping the back of her hand. She looked down at his face and almost cried out when she saw he was looking up at her, eyes tired, but open.
"I'll get Madam Pomfrey!" she whispered urgently, removing her hand from his and missing his touch immediately.
She ran over to the office quickly, careful not to wake any of the others and knocked on the heavy wooden door of Madam Pomfrey's office. The door was open within a second and Madam Pomfrey was standing there, ready for action, wand in hand. "What is it?"
"Cedric's awake!" Hermione whispered.
The look of relief on Madam Pomfrey's face was equal to the relief that Hermione herself felt, and that was saying something. As she bustled around (taking care to be quiet so as not to wake the other patients) Hermione sat by Cedric's side, holding onto his hand.
Once he'd drunk a vast array of potions, his energy levels improved a hundred fold and he was able to sit up with only a little assistance from Hermione. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand as Madam Pomfrey took his temperature.
"I told you I wouldn't die."
She almost cried.