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Chapter Twenty-One

Professor Moody continued to practically carry us. Harry had gone silent from shock, and we were led through the ever winding cases of Hogwarts. Everything felt numb, I could barely feel my feet slowly take one step. Memories continued to sweep through my mind, Ari, Cedric and his father, back to Ari. I wanted to just push everything from my mind.

We eventually reached Moody's classroom, and everything seemed darker. The room that I had sat in all year, something was off. It didn't seem familiar, like it was the first time I'd ever walked into it before. He moved us to some chairs, Harry looked almost dead as he leaned forward. Cuts and forming bruises littered his arms and face. I probably didn't look much better in my own chair. I was, at least, probably a little more aware.

I felt almost sick, was I really that used to death?

"What happened?" he asked roughly after he had closed the door.

"The cup was a portkey," Harry immediately coughed out. "We were at a graveyard. Voldemort was there..." He seemed at a loss for words, and I wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"I heard somebody," I muttered. Moody's eyes darted toward me. I felt something drop in the pit of my stomach, I had to be right. Something was wrong. Sure, the guy was always off, but there was something more. Something horribly familiar. I narrowed my eyes, and decided that it would be best to stay no more.

Harry found his voice and continued, "We started running. Cedric... He killed him... Then..."

"Then what?"

"He took our blood," he finally choked out.

"Did he forgive them?" Moody demanded.

"Who?" I asked. Something was wrong. Definitely, horribly wrong.

His gaze flitted between the two of us, as if we were missing something. "The Death Eaters. Did he forgive them?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"Did he forgive the Death Eaters who didn't look for him? The ones who were too cowardly, with no loyalty, who didn't even go to Azkaban for him. Did he forgive them?"

I stood, my legs still feeling weak.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

Moody looked dumbfounded for a moment, then the door opened. The sound was like an explosion, as people raced in. "Harry, Max! Get away from him!"

I didn't need to be told twice. Old feelings of fight or flight kicked in, and I ran for the door, grabbing Harry's arm to pull him away. When we got behind the people, one of whom had shot a red light at Moody, I realized that Harry was bleeding. I had almost forgotten that we'd been injured. I looked to my own cut, which was now crusting over.

I looked to the protectors, and immediately recognized Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. Dumbledore had his wand on Moody, Snape was uncorking a vile. McGonagall stood between us and them, her knuckles white as she gripped her wand.

"Moody," Harry muttered.

"This is not Alastor Moody," Dumbledore responded. His voice was rough, angry. "I realized it when he took the both of you away."

"Then, who is he?" Harry asked.

Moody was frozen to the seat. I looked closer, only to see a subtle movement make its way across his face. His face started bubbling, boiling. Melting away from it's normal hardened stature. He was morphing, changing. The fake eye popped off of his head, and the leg collapsed only for a real one to grow. It looked painful. All at once, it ended. Except, it was different.

He was younger, but there was still a hardened expression.

His eyes opened, and he looked at them.

Snape began to pour the liquid down the stranger's mouth. After waiting a second, Dumbledore looked at him intently.

"Barty Crouch." It was not a question, but a statement.

Snape and McGonagall looked shocked.

The man was quiet for a moment, before he began talking. It seemed forced, as if he didn't want to be talking. "Yes."

"Did you put Harry and Max's name into the Goblet?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"They were my orders."

"Where is the real Alastor Moody?"

He was quiet, but his eyes betrayed him. They looked to the chest across the room. McGonagall wandered over, and with a wave of her wand opened it.

Dumbledore left the subdued Crouch, and looked over the edge. An echo bubbled up, "I'm sorry Albus."

"We'll have you out soon old friend, I'm only sorry that you were imprisoned here for so long."

Dumbledore turned to Harry and I, and then back to Crouch. "Why was Max's name needed?"

"He found out about her at the last minute. I put all of their names in, all of those bird freaks. The cup decided on her.

"He wanted to know what powers he may gain with her blood. After that, he was going to kill her- and the boy. I would never understand why the Dark Lord would want to taint his blood with that of an animal though."

My rough nails were digging into my palm, I was restraining myself. He had endangered the entire Flock, not just me. Had he written in Gazzy and Angel's name as well? What if they had been chosen? I could feel myself trembling in anger, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to punch him across the face. I knew we shouldn't have come here.

"But that doesn't matter. He's back. The Dark Lord has returned."

He moved his arm, pulling up the dark sleeve. Revealing a tattoo, dark and moving underneath his skin. A skull and snake. I had seen it somewhere before, but I couldn't place where.

"Miss Ride you may go. Harry, you need to stay. You need to hear what's been happening all year. Minerva, would you mind...?"

"Of course," she said, and started to lead me away.

She closed the door, and I whispered, "I can do this on my own."

"You need to see Madame Pomfrey," McGonagall urged. I spun around, I was so angry. I knew it wasn't her fault, but I just had to get away.

"No, I don't," I retorted. I showed her the arm that had been cut, which wasn't bleeding any more. "All of these cuts and bruises will be gone by tomorrow. What I need is to see the Flock."

"Miss Ride, you are injured and not thinking properly. You should rest-"

"With the Flock!" I looked down the spiral staircase, nobody was heading this way. The crowd was probably still being contained, and if they weren't they'd probably be going to their common rooms. Nowhere near the staircase. I unfurled my wings, not even caring what McGonagall would think. I jumped, making my way down safely. I landed safely, and retracted my wings. I looked back up to McGonagall, who was looking down the many flights of stairs toward me. I didn't need my vision to know that her eyes were probably bulging and face turning red with anger.

I started walking, there was only one place I wanted to be. There was no way I would go the common room after that. No, I needed to be with the Flock in the little cottage built for us. A little safe house, where I could spend the night in some peace.

As I wandered down the flights, I could hear the echoes of footsteps and voices against the halls. Demanding, sad, voices urging them forward to their rooms. The students were returning. I looked up, and could see the Gryffindor's. I didn't see Fang. Maybe he knew where I was going.

Everything started going numb as I made my way down the final flight of stairs. I was convinced that it was shock. I had just seen a kid die after all. I was careful, staying close to the walls just in case. There was something in the pit of my stomach, making me feel ill. I just wanted to lie down.

Max!

What did it want now? Hadn't the voice realized I had had a long day? Now it was just headache inducing.

Max!

Something was different though. It seemed urgent now. The pain in the back of my head starting to swell as though I'd been hit with a metal bat.

Whatever happens from here on, you must fight him Max. Are you listening?

I didn't have time to ask what I was supposed to be fighting. I clutched at my head. It felt as though my whole being was splitting in two. The whole of everything was twisted and demented, it was worse than the portkey. There was only one other time I had had a headache like this. One time that it felt like my head was splitting open.

Fight him Max!

I closed my eyes and took in a fistful of hair. Something screamed in the back of my mind, something clawing and tearing. Getting worse with every second. The voice, calling out in an agonizing pain as I gritted my teeth.

Hello Maximum.

It was quiet for a moment. That voice, already too familiar although I had heard it only once before.

No, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the voice.

I can't wait to get to know everyone better.

My eyes shot open.

This was not good.

Guess whose writer's block was finally cured? :D
I apologize if this seems somewhat short.
And, this is officially my most reviewed story! Yays! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!