Hello everybody.
I'm truly sorry it took me more than a year and then some to finish the story, but here's at last the last installment. I'm not going to write any excuses, because it's obviously been way too long for them to be sufficient.
There were quite a lot of plot ends to tie together, and explanations to offer. I have tried to make all this as plausible as I could. You can decide if I pulled it off or not.
Thank you so much for sticking with me.
Hugs,
:)
Takeo
BTW, this is a monster chapter, way longer than any previous one.
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The Story of Harry and Cedric
by Hermione Granger
a sample
When something very bad or extremely wonderful happens to a fellow human being in one's close proximity, it tends to bring out the quality of one's character. How differently those people reacted to the wonderful, incredible event which took place in the hospital wing! Amos, for one, revealed himself to own a bigger heart than he had been given credit for. Fred & George, true to their nature, found the funny side of the thing. Fudge, well, let's just say he's was a true politician, and leave it at that.
On the second thought, let's not. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, was rotten. He turned out to be the worst kind of politician this side of outright evil. He had grown accustomed to his post and the power it gave him, and that power had corrupted him as surely as a mouldering spell will rot an apple. Power very seldom suits people who covet it, and when Voldemort returned, it became clear that Fudge should never had gotten the minister post. If we'd had someone decent and competent as the Minister for Magic, Voldemort would've had much harder time regaining control over the land.
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THE BOY WHO LOVED
Chapter 21
Alliances
For a full half a minute after Fred and George's two-liner, there was a nearly complete silence. Nobody spoke, and every shuffle of a foot could be clearly heard. Then, there was a sobbing draw of breath, a sudden movement, and in an instant both Harry and Cedric were crushed in a an embrace somewhere between desperate and overjoyed. Penelope Diggory, Cedric's mother, had rushed to the bedside. She was followed, only seconds after, by Amos Diggory. He didn't join the hug right away, even though he seemed to want to. Instead, he fell to his knees beside the bed to be on level with his son and took Cedric's hand in his own.
"I…" Amos started with difficulty, as if it was hard to get the words out around warring emotions, "I'm so sorry, Cedric! I don't… I don't know how I could be so blinded, such… such a fool not to appreciate you for what you are. And then, when I thought we had lost you… I came to my senses. And I thought I'd surely die of the guilt. I can't believe I… abandoned you like that... I'm so sorry, lad."
"Dad," Cedric said, but he couldn't continue. He burst into convulsive sobbing, clinging to Harry and his mother with one hand but not withdrawing the other from his father's hold.
"Please," Amos continued, "do you think you could ever forgive me?"
Cedric was incapable of answering, tears of happiness were flowing all over his face. Instead, he pulled his father into the embrace as well. Harry, whom Cedric had just let go of, got up and sneaked off. His mind was reeling and his heart was overflowing with the wonder of Cedric being alive again, but he also felt like an intruder in that intimate family reunion. And so he tried to melt into the crowd, which had at last found its voice. A cacophonic one. Almost everybody was babbling excitedly, some were arguing heatedly and very few were making any effort to actually listen what the next person tried to say. Adding to the confusion, Madame Maxime appeared, herding two floating brass beds before her. On the beds were Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour, both awake and apparently arguing on walking by themselves. Madame Maxime was having none of that, and floated the beds next to the one which Cedric was occupying with his parents.
Harry nodded to both new patients, glad to see they were okay, but he didn't go to talk to them. Fleur and Viktor didn't seem too astonished to see Cedric, so maybe nobody had even told them yet that he had been killed. Instead of setting the record straight with them, Harry had an idea of finding Ron and Hermione and escaping somewhere to tell them everything that had happened, but, not unexpectedly, he didn't get that far.
"Potter!" Cornelius Fudge demanded, "Explain yourself! What bloody shenanigans have you been up to?"
"I'm sure," Harry said, "that I have no idea what you're talking about."
"No idea? No idea!" Fudge spluttered, "Then, what is this… this absurd… theater you cooked up with Diggory?"
"Theater!" Harry exclaimed, "You saw him with your own eyes! He was dead! How an earth do you think I could have faked that?"
"There's a potion–" Fudge started.
"I suck at potions!" Harry interrupted rudely. Fudge turned a shade darker and looked a bit like a pressure cooker about to explode. Harry could almost see steam coming out of his ears, but suddenly a rescue arrived from an unexpected source.
"For once," professor Snape joined the conversation with his smooth but disdainful manner, "we are in complete agreement, Potter, even if I can't possibly approve of your language. Minister, there's no way he could have produced the Draught of Living Death, let alone the antidote. Even I have to concentrate to get that one right."
"But…" Fudge started to object heatedly, but then the look of a sudden revelation spread over his pudgy face. "Maybe you're right, Severus," he said, very slowly, but obviously getting more exited with every word, "it was stupid of me to imagine that a couple of schoolboys were capable of faking something like this. I… I have to go."
"Why would anyone want to, anyway?" asked Harry, but the minister didn't pay any attention to him any more. Instead, he turned away and started to butt his way through the crowd towards Dumbledore. Harry moved as if to follow him.
"Potter," Snape said in an undertone, taking a hold of Harry's arm, "for once why don't you keep your nose out of other people's business. You have no idea how delicate the political situation is, and you'll only make it worse if you intervene."
Harry didn't answer. He gave Snape one disgusted look, shook his arm free and turned to follow Fudge. He wanted to know, and delicate politics be damned.
But again, Harry was interrupted, although pleasantly this time. Ron and Hermione were suddenly on his path, and Harry found his vision blurred by a mane of bushy hair when Hermione threw herself in his arms. Ron stood by, giving Harry his best lopsided grin and looking up as if to say: "Girls, eh?" It was so eloquent Harry could almost hear the words. He grinned back, although except for the delay, he didn't mind being hugged at all.
"Not now," Harry said when Hermione let go and started to shoot questions at him, "I want to see what the Minister is up to. Come with me."
When the trio reached Dumbledore and Fudge, the latter was staring up at Dumbledore, a demanding and curiously feverish look in his face.
"This was all your idea, Dumbledore," he was just saying, "and therefore your responsibility. I gave permission for the Tournament against my better judgement, and you nearly got our Champion killed! What say you?"
"Actually, he was killed, and all the other Champions were in mortal danger, too," Dumbledore answered him, "but that wasn't my doing, except in the sense that despite my best efforts, I didn't succeed in preventing such a situation. But this is not the time nor the place for this conversation, Cornelius. I have several urgent matters to attend to here. Could you please be as kind as to meet me in my office in an hour or so?"
"Well, all right, Dumbledore," Fudge huffed, obviously not really agreeing at all, "At midnight, but not a second later, and no bloody tricks in the meantime, you hear me?"
"I'm in no mood for tricks, either, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied. "This is the most serious situation. I'll see you at midnight, then. Unless, "he offered,"you want to stay and see what can be found out about the incident here."
"I don't think so, Dumbledore," Fudge said icily. "I've seen enough, and I also have pressing matters to attend to."
"As you wish, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied.
After the Minister had turned away and left the room with his lackeys, Dumbledore turned to give Harry, Ron and Hermione a questioning look, each in turn. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded slowly. But when Harry opened his mouth to speak, Dumbledore shook his head.
"Not just yet, Harry," he said calmly, "Let's get rid of the party first." And with a swish of his wand, Dumbledore conjured up a sturdy kitchen ladder, climbed on it, and raised his voice over the crowd.
"Friends, comrades and collegues," he announced, "thank you so much for coming, and let me say that I'm overjoyed to see this happy, colourful gathering instead of the mournful wake this occasion started out as. However, tonight's events were both extremely stressful and exceedingly grave, and I have to consult my staff, the Champions and Cedric's family. Time is of the essence now and we must act quickly. Everyone who I haven't specifically asked to stay, please see yourself out. Thank you ever so much."
Dumbledore climbed down, vanished the ladder and addressed Ron and Hermione: "You two can stay," he said and smiled, "It saves Harry the trouble of telling you everything afterwards."
Harry grinned at the familiar twinkle now back in the old wizard's eyes. Dumbledore went to change a couple of words with Madame Maxime while the room started to empty, and soon only Maxime, the members of the staff, Winky, Padfoot, Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Diggorys and Harry, Fleur, Viktor, Ron & Hermione were left in the room.
"First of all," Dumbledore started a short while later, "I must apologise to everyone here, but especially Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Viktor for failing to keep this Tournament safe. I was deceived in a way I didn't think possible. That in itself should stand as a dire warning to each and every witch and wizard here. Lord Voldemort is back, and he hasn't lost any of his lethally devious talents. We have but a shortest time to prepare, and then the war will once again be upon us. And now, let's find out how exactly did Voldemort manage to do what he did today."
"The wizard you have known this year as professor Moody," Dumbledore continued, "was actually an impostor, a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion. As improbable as that is, his name is Bartemius Crouch Jr., and he's not only the son of the high Ministry official of the same name, but he's also been officially dead for years. At the moment Crouch is stunned and tied to a chair in Moody's office. The house-elf Winky here can probably tell us exactly how and why all this came about."
Dumbledore then asked the terrified and shame-faced house-elf to come forward, explained to her what Veritaserum was and persuaded her to drink a gulp of it. Then, bit by bit he got the whole terrible tale of dysfunctional family Crouch out of her.
Breaking the silence that followed, the Headmaster went on: "When Harry returned from the maze tonight with Cedric's body, I asked who I still thought to be Moody at the time, to stay put and watch over them. When he didn't, but took Harry away instead, I knew he must be the traitor. And despite everything, I have to say I was extremely happy it turned out not to be Alastor Moody himself after all."
"Now, it's obvious that Crouch was behind the fact that Harry was entered into the Tournament. The next mystery to be solved is what happened tonight. Viktor Krum was found in the maze stupefied, which, as Harry told me, was his doing because Krum attacked Cedric, and under an imperius curse, which was Barty Crouches handiwork. Would you like to tell us exactly what happened, Viktor?"
"Sertainly" Krum said. "Professor Moody, or Mr. Krauz, was it?…" And he went on to explain how he had been forced to play his part in Voldemort's plot. "I am very sorry, Cedric, for what I did to you," he ended.
"It's all right," Cedric said, "I know it wasn't really you. Apology accepted."
"Thank you," said Krum, looking much relieved.
"But in the end," Dumbledore continued, "something unexpected happened, and everything didn't go according to Voldemort's plan. First of all, Harry stopped imperiused Viktor, then Harry and Cedric fought and defeated the last obstacle together and decided to seize the Goblet together, too. And the Tri-Wirard Cup, which is a portkey, transported both of them, not just Harry, to the place Voldemort had prepared. The destination of the Goblet was not the Tournament goal area where it was supposed to go, but an old neglected graveyard in Little Hangleton."
There were several surprised gasps in his little audience, but also several blank stares. "Some of you know what that signifies," Dumbledore explained. "It's the birthplace of a certain Tom Riddle, later known as Lord Voldemort. I won't go into the details of what happened there, you can pester Harry and Cedric about that later. It's enough to say that Voldemort has returned to his body and full powers. A mystery to solve, however, is how he was able to whisk away Harry and Cedric without my knowledge. You see, I had foreseen the possibility and thought I was prepared for it. In short, I had given keystone beacons, a sort of magical tracking devices to both Harry and Cedric, and I had activated the keystone itself when the boys entered the maze. I should have known immediately when they were taken away, and I should have been able to follow. But I didn't get any warning at all. I did feel that the portkey transported them away from the maze, but at the same moment, Harry already appeared in front of my eyes, injured and clutching Cedric's body. Needless to say, at that point it was already too late. Without Fawkes, tonight would have turned out an even darker sort of a tragedy."
"To solve this Riddle, and excuse me for the terrible pun there," Dumbledore said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "we must examine the Goblet of Fire. Minerva, would you set the Cup on the table there. And everyone, please, stand back a little."
McGonagall levitated the Tri-Wizard Cup onto the table, taking care not to touch anyone with it. Dumbledore then stopped forward, weaving a pattern with his wand. The Goblet started to glow softly white, then the glow changed colour across the spectrum from the deepest red to the most intense violet and all the colours of the rainbow somewhere in between. Different parts of the goblet glowed with different brightness, and the lighting varied constantly as the colour changed. On thin air above the Goblet appeared strange mathematical looking symbols, just one or two at the time at irregular intervals. After reaching ultraviolet the glow changed back to white for a moment, then the first symbol appeared on air once more, and the colour changed into reddish orange. On this second round, there were only some colours, corresponding to the symbols that appeared in the first round. Each colour remained almost constant for quite a while, during which increasingly complex lines of smaller symbols appeared below the main one. To Harry, it looked like a programming code or mathematical equations. He had never thought that magic could be presented in such a scientific manner. It seemed to somehow lessen it, in his eyes. Wasn't it supposed to be, you know, magical?
"Ooh," Hermione said exitedly, "Analytical Arithmancy! I've never seen this before! This is so cool."
"What?" Harry said, "Are you telling me you know about this stuff?"
"Of course I do!" Hermione said, "But that's University level magic. In Britain they only teach it at Oxford. Professor McGonagall refused to put it on the curriculum even if I asked her to."
"Hermione, you're hopeless!" Ron exhaled, and was rewarded with a kick on his shin. But Harry silently agreed with him. Also, he'd had no idea they taught magic in Oxford at all.
Some time later Dumbledore sat in his office with the Minister for Magic. They had just settled in their respective chairs and the atmosphere was somewhat charged.
"I have briefly questioned Barty Crouch and also studied the Tri-Wizard Cup," Dumbledore said. "It's a portkey the like of which I have never seen before, and I'd be very surprised if the Ministry staff had, either. It can travel through time as well as space."
"Nonsense! I have already asked for the Ministry records and they show clearly that the portkey left the maze precisely at 10:06:47 pm and appeared on the festival grounds less than a half a second later!"
"Of course it did. That's exactly the point, Cornelius!" Dumbledore demanded, thumping a stack of parchments on dis desk, "I have the results of the analysis right here. The portkey was rigged so that it returned to it's original destination on the goal area immediately after it left that maze. But during that short moment Harry and Cedric spent a couple of hours in the graveyard of a certain notorious Manor House in Little Hangleton."
"Li… Little Hangleton!" Fudge stuttered, visibly shaken.
"I see that you remember the place, Cornelius, " Dumbledore said drily, "Riddle Manor, where several murders have happened before."
"No, it can't be true!" Fudge said in vehement denial. "It's not true. You're lying!"
"I'm afraid it is true, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, gently this time, "I admit that I have sometimes left something unsaid, but I have never outright lied to you, and I'm not lying now, either. Harry was lured there to to use his blood as an ingredient in a complicated potion which gave Voldemort his body back. They did it at Riddle Manor because another ingredient was a bone from his father, who's buried there. I tell you, Voldemort has risen again, and killed again, even if Fawkes unmade that last atrocity. We can easily prove his renewed existence with further magical analysis of the Goblet, a little Veritaserum, and some time to interrogate Barty Crouch. Besides, we have two eyewitnesses to his resurrection."
"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer and a boy who… well… those poofters cannot be trusted," Fudge said with distaste, "and Potter seems to be a serious headcase anyway."
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter," Dumbledore said drily, but there was a dangerously angry glint in his eyes.
"And if I have?" Fudge asked hastily, but blushing slightly. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place?"
"She's not exactly the most reliable source herself," Dumbledore replied with forced calm, with a new rigidity in his face. "You know as well as I that her standard practise is to warp insignificant or innocent facts into slander and libel. Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. Besides, in a matter this important, I'm sure the boys wouldn't object to the use of Veritaserum on them. That would settle the matter once and for all."
"No it wouldn't," Fudge insisted, a stubborn look on his face. "The effects of Veritaserum can be faked, if there's a sufficiently skillful wizard involved."
"What an earth are you talking about?" Dumbledore asked.
"You have," Fudge said coldly, "always been unhelpful and difficult, Dumbledore, and opposed to the policies the Ministry has tried to uphold. I have finally figured out why. This is all a ruse. All the incidents with Potter during these last years that you claimed have been caused by You-Know-Who. Only there's no hard evidence. Basically we just have your word, yours and some impressionable kids. And I don't trust you, Dumbledore, not any more. You want my job. You're trying to make it look like You-Know-Who is back only to seize the control of the Ministry yourself!"
"Are you out of your mind?" Dumbledore cracked, looking at Fudge like he had never seen him before. "I was offered your post half a dozen times, as you very well know. I turned it down. I don't want your job, nor do I need it."
"So you think the Ministry doesn't matter," Fudge splattered, "do you? We'll see about that!"
"It can't be both, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, having regained his cool demeanor. "You're not thinking clearly. Why don't we go and question Barty Crouch and Cedric Diggory. A lot of things will become clear, including the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins."
"It's too late for that," Fudge said, gloating, "the order to give the prisoner to the Dementors was issued ten minutes ago, according to the new Ministry policy concerning dangerous individuals who have managed to escape Azkaban. He will be administered the Dementor's kiss right about now, as we speak."
When Dumbledore had left, saying he must question Barty Crouch before his meeting with the Minister, he had asked McGonagall and Snape to go with him and stand guard over Barty Crouch afterwards. And when the effect of Veritaserum wore off Winky was so distressed about the revealed secrets of the family and the possibility of her old master having been murdered by her young master, Madam Pomfrey gave her Calming Draught and put her to sleep in the infirmary. The rest of the group, when finally getting the chance, started to barrage Harry and Cedric with questions about what had happened.
"Were you really dead, Cedric?" asked Hermione. "How did that feel? Did you know what was happening around you?"
"And if you were, how come you're not anymore?" asked Ron.
"What ees this they tell me about a kiss and a phoenix, 'arry?" Fleur wanted to know.
"How did You-Know-Who get his body back?" Bill Weasley inquired. He was a curse-breaker, so this was something he found very intriguing.
The first questions opened veritable floodgates. Hows, whys and wherefores flew so thick in the air that Harry and Cedric couldn't even begin to answer the questions. And nobody would have heard anyway, if they had. But suddenly there was a loud bang and a flash of light. Remus Lupin had his wand out and everybody stared at him, shocked into silence.
"Everybody calm down a bit, please," he said in his soft but slightly raspy voice. "How could they possibly answer everything at once. Why don't we let Harry and Cedric tell what they feel like telling at the moment," he raised his forefinger in rather teacherlike manner, "if, and only if they feel up to it. Tonight must have been a terrible ordeal for both of them."
There was a murmur of agreement, and all the eyes turned towards Harry and Cedric. Cedric was sitting in his bed, leaning on the wall behind and Harry was perching on the sideboard of the bed. They looked at each other. Cedric shrugged and Harry nodded.
"You start," he said to Cedric.
"All right…" Cedric said, and composed himself. "It was a dark and stormy night in the Tri-Wizard maze…" he begun, face deadpan, and got some incredulous stares from the audience. And even if he grew seriously serious as the tale went on, it was obvious that Cedric was a great storyteller. He wasn't self-conscious and a bit embarrassed of the attention, as Harry would have been, but obviously enjoyed the experience. He was also able to tell everything in a way that made sense, and even awoke vivid images of what it must have been like in the minds of the listeners.
Cedric told them briefly about the third task and it's different obstacles, how he was attacked by Viktor Krum and how Harry saved him. He told about the giant acromantula and how the Goblet tempted him, and how, despite of the temptation he and Harry ended up sharing the victory.
Then he described the graveyard, and the Riddle Manor, and the hooded figure, and how Harry had insisted they go back to the portkey. There he stopped.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he said to Harry. "You were right."
"I know." Harry said, "It's all right. We're still here… or rather, again, in your case."
"Thanks to you, Harry." Cedric smiled at him and reached to touch his cheek.
"Oi! for Merlin's sake!" Ron interrupted. "Geddon with it, will you! What happened next?"
This won a barking laughter from Lupin and several chuckles all around. It also got the story back on track. Cedric described how they woke up tied to a gravestone and how Wormtail prepared the potion in 'a dirty big cauldron' and how he had feared Wormtail was about to kill Harry, but only took some blood. He told with dramatic tones how Voldemort rose from the cauldron and the Death Eaters arrived.
So the story was just arriving to its most dramatic turns, when they were interrupted. They heard a commotion with several hurried footsteps and shouting voices approaching, and Cedric went silent. Lupin rushed to the doors and took a look into the corridor beyond. He dug immediately back and barked in a low voice: "Snuffles! Out!" and the huge dog slunk through the opposite door deeper into the infirmary. Lupin waved his wand and the door closed and locked itself behind Padfoot.
"Hagrid," Lupin then said quickly, "if they ask about it, you had Fang when you arrived but you took it away 'cause this is the hospital wing, okay."
"Aye, of course I had," he agreed, with a huge wink, "Fang was guarding the maze with me."
"Right," said Lupin, and turned to the Diggorys. But Arthur was already conferring with them in a low voice. Harry identified only a word here and there, 'Voldemort', 'the Ministry', 'Fudge' and 'Death Eaters' among them. Whatever he said, both Amos and Penelope nodded in agreement, despite looking a bit overwhelmed.
Only seconds later, the doors to the corridor burst open and several people rushed into the hospital wing. There were six aurors, lead by a a man with short hair reminding Harry of a steel brush, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape. McGonagall and the wiry-haired auror were arguing with each other, loudly.
"Regrettable, but all the same," the man said just when they entered, "it's done, and that's that."
"You should never have brought them inside the castle, Dawlish!" McGonagall shouted, obviously furious. "When Dumbledore finds out…"
"Where is Dumbledore, anyway!" asked Dawlish.
"He's not here," professor Sprout said calmly. "This is a hospital wing, Dawlish. The Headmaster went to his office to meet the Minister. Don't you think you'd do better to…"
But just then the doors banged open again, and Dumbledore entered. He wasn't looking nearly as wild as when he had knocked out Barty Crouch, but he didn't look like his usual benevolent self either. His chin was up and eyes were blazing, and the air itself seemed to tremble around him. Fudge trotted in a moment later, red in the face and huffing, winded after trying to keep up with Dumbledore.
"What on earth are you here for, Dawlish?" Dumbledore asked, in a surprisingly calm voice, "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, Severus, I'm surprised at you two! I specifically asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch."
"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore," McGonagall answered shrilly "The Minister has seen to that!"
"I know that," Dumbledore answered. "But why didn't you stop that madness?"
"It was six against two," Snape said, "and they had the orders signed by the Minister."
"You should have contested those!" Dumbledore insisted, "Minister, as you should very well know, the power to execute death sentences does not lie within the Ministry, but can only be done by the order of Wizengamot. Moreover, I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and bringing any dangerous creatures here requires my permission. That includes Dementors. You overstepped your authority!"
"I did challenge the orders." McGonagall said, and Harry didn't think he had ever seen her so angry, "but like Severus said, it was six to two, and they forced us out. And then those… things swooped down on Crouch and… and…"
"By all accounts he is no loss," Dawlish interrupted. "It seems he's been responsible for several deaths."
"But he cannot now give testimony, can he?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well that's no mystery is it?" Dawlish asked, apparently quite earnest. "He was a raving lunatic. From what Minerva and Severus have told me he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions."
"You're an auror, for Merlin's sake," Dumbledore replied, furious and exasperated. "Alastor taught you better than that. Assumptions are not enough! You have to know. Also, it's a sad day indeed when aurors start to execute people without lawful proceedings. And finally, there's the minor fact that he was getting his orders from Lord Voldemort. He was somewhat insane, but he was also shrewd and skillful, and not completely mad."
"Technically," Minister Fudge butted in, "barty Crouch is still alive, so it wasn't an execution. Therefore, I was within my legal powers to give the order."
"Not with Dementors within the school," McGonagall cried, "you weren't! And that's even worse than killing a man. You destroyed his soul!"
"MY DEAR WOMAN!" Fudge roared, loosing his temper altogether, "As Minister for Magic it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous criminal!"
"Interview being the most important word there, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, "If you just had done that instead of blindly destroying a key witness, we wouldn't need to argue the point whether Voldemort has returned or not. He has, and the sooner you accept that fact and act accordingly, the better we'll all be prepared when the war starts anew."
"The war? Vol… He Who Must Not Be Named? What are you talking about?" Dawlish asked. He had turned a shade or two paler while following the argument.
"Show them, Severus," Dumbledore requested.
Snape made his way closer, unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and revealed an ugly tattoolike sign on his pale arm. It was a dark sort of inflamed-looking reddish violet, not unlike the colour of a bruise.
"The Dark Mark!" Dawlish exclaimed, looking thunderstruck.
"It was burning coal-black earlier today, when the Dark Lord summoned us," Snape stated in raw voice, "his closest Death Eaters, both faithfull and deserted. I dare say Karkaroff got the message, too."
"Igor Karkaroff was nowhere to be found," Madame Maxime offered from near Fleur's bed.
"No wonder," Dawlish pondered, "if You-Know-Who really is back, he must run and hide, quickly and far away. He betrayed too many Death Eaters to buy his freedom, at his time."
"Enough! This is preposterous!" Fudge shouted. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years! I've had enough. I hereby order everybody to stop spreading rumours that You-Know-Who is back and rallying Death Eaters around him. Dawlish, you take care that other matter. Others, come with me! Let's go back to the Ministry and some level-headed people."
This was, finally, more than Harry could take. "I saw him coming back, and so did Cedric! I can tell you the names of the Death Eaters he summo–"
"I said ENOUGH!" Fudge roared again, and waved his wand. Harry's mouth snapped shut. Fudge strolled over to him, followed by many startled eyes and more than one wandtip. He didn't try any more spellcasting, though. Instead, he took a heavy-looking bag from his pocket and dropped it to the floor in front of Harry.
"Your winnings," Fudge said coldly, and turned away. Five of the aurors turned to follow him, but before they got out of the door, Dumbledore intervened in one last effort to speak sense to the Minister of Magic.
"Cornelius, look at the evidence!" Dumbledore pleaded, "What's happening now is much wider in scope than workings of a single lunatic. I'm not asking you to take my word on it, but look at the evidence, put your best aurors on it, and you'll find out it's true. Voldemort is back, and it's up to all of us to stop him."
"Dumbledore," Fudge threatened in icy voice, "if you don't stop spreading these unfounded and destructive rumours, I'll see to it that your time as the Headmaster is over! Goodbye."
During the shocked silence that followed Fudge's ultimatum, someone waved his wand and Harry's jaws started to work again. But before he could think of anything to say, Dumbledore himself broke the silence.
"What was that other matter you are supposed to take care of, John?" he asked.
"Er… yes." Dawlish started, looking embarrassed, "Look, we've had our own disagreements, but I… I'll do my best to see that this You-Know-Who business is looked into further."
"I would appreciate that very much," Dumbledore answered. "And the other matter?"
"Well, you see, we got a couple of reports today from the audience, saying that a huge black dog matching the description of the Animagus form of the murderer Sirius Black was seen in Hogwarts several times today, and that he might now be here in the hospital wing."
"That," hollered Hagrid, "would've been Fang, my boarhound, wouldn't it?"
"But I understand your dog is light brown, not black like this one," Dawlish retorted.
"Right. But, ye know…" Hagrid started, but to Harry it seemed he had no idea where he was going with that sentence, so he interrupted.
"The Weasley twins," Harry said, as if it explained everything.
"What about them?" asked Dawlish, looking suspicious.
"It was a stupid prank, really," said Hermione, "they turned it black last week, just to pull Hagrid's leg."
"Really? So where's this black boarhound now?"
"I had it with me when I came," Hagrid answered, back on the track, "but, ye know, this being a hospital and all, took it back to mi cabin there and came back by miself."
"All right," Dawlish said, and looked like he accepted the explanation. "But I'll have to come by and check that hound. Shall we?"
Hagrid looked worried, but nodded all the same. He was looking at Dumbledore.
"Go on, Hagrid," the Headmaster said, "we can manage without you."
"Right ye are, Dumbledore," he said, turned and stooped to avoid the lintel of the door.
When Dawlish and Hagrid had gone, Dumbledore turned and scanned the crowd.
"Bill," he then asked, "could I ask you perhaps to mend the oversight your little brothers did by not dyeing Fang last week?"
"Sure. It'll be faster if I get out of the windows over there. Hagrid and Dawlish have to walk around most of the castle, so I should have ample time."
"Thank you, Bill," Dumbledore said, " I knew I could count on you."
It turned out to be a long night. When Bill had gone, the speculations about Fudge, the threat of a new war and all things considering the events of the day needed to be discussed. Fleur, Viktor and Madame Maxime wanted to know all that had happened to Harry and Cedric, and the rest wanted to hear what had happened after Voldemort had been resurrected. Less than thirty minutes after he had gone, Bill came back together with Hagrid. Dawlish had examined Fang, returned it back to its original colour and left. After hearing that, Lupin let Padfoot back to the room. Dumbledore then asked him to assume his human form, introduced him to those who didn't know him, and explained that he wasn't the mass-murderer he was generally believed to be. Furthermore, Dumbledore made Sirius and Snape to make an uneasy truce, the strength of which many, including Harry and Ron, seriously doubted.
When the most pressing new questions had been asked and discussed, Cedric continued his account of what had happened in the graveyard. The parts he couldn't tell, Harry filled in with his own, somewhat less polished narrative. During the story, Fleur's eyes grew wider and wider, until she finally interrupted.
"You like other boys, Cedric! Why didn't 'ou tell me, you silly man!" she admonished. "Now I feel so stupid for 'arrassing you before the Yule Ball."
Finally, around half past four in the morning Dumbledore told everybody that the gathering was over, and to most of them to go to sleep. All four champions were accommodated together in one of the hospital rooms, under the surveillance of madam Pomfrey, who gave each of them a swig of Sleeping Draught to ensure a night without nightmares. After that, they all dropped like stones.
The ones Dumbledore asked not to go to bed quite yet were Severus Snape, Arthur and Molly Weasley and Amos and Penelope Diggory. Snape's matter was fast. Dumbledore just asked him to do what he must, and Snape left with no further instructions. The others he took to the comfortable chairs in the Headmaster's office on top of the spiralling staircase.
"I hope you are not falling off your feet quite yet," Dumbledore then started, "because I have two more things to discuss with you, and neither benefits from being postponed."
"We're all right, I guess," Amos Diggory answered. "There are so many things running around my mind that I doubt I would sleep anyway."
"Very well. I asked you here because you," Dumbledore nodded to Diggorys, "are Cedric's parents and you," he nodded to Weasleys, "are the next best thing Harry will ever have. I also suspect that at least to some of you, it was rather a severe shock, to find out about the true nature of the bond between Harry and Cedric. I dare say none of you knew about it before yesterday, or am I wrong?"
"I had absolutely no idea," Arthur Weasley said, but he didn't look judgemental. Molly didn't say anything, but her face had frozen in an expression of distaste that didn't suit her friendly face at all.
"Well," Amos said, looking at his wife, "Cedric wrote us a letter a while back, telling us he… likes boys, not girls. I went through the roof, I'm afraid. I even threatened to disinherit him."
"You sure did," Penelope confirmed, smiling. "I myself had a very liberal upbringing, so I was sort of… prepared. I had suspected as much, but I didn't want to believe I was right. And when the letter came, Amos was so disturbed by it that I couldn't… bring myself to… educate him about the matter... not so soon. But then I realised who the other boy was when we met Cedric this, or rather, yesterday morning after breakfast. The looks between the two could hardly be mistaken."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "And Molly, dear?" he then asked gently.
"I don't understand how… how you all can be so… so… worldly about this," Molly huffed. "I think it's completely unnatural. How could you allow this to happen, Dumbledore? Harry's been such a sweet boy."
"He still is," Dumbledore said. "Harry has not changed, exept for growing up. It's only that we know him a little better now. And I wouldn't have been able to stop this from happening, even if I had wanted to. Being gay is not unnatural, Molly. Some of us just are that way, like some of us have red hair. This is not some accident that happened to Harry, it's what he is. If you loved him before, you should love him after, too. I tell you, Molly, he is still the same Harry you have cared for and loved like a mother."
"But," and now Molly started to sob, "I have so hoped… he would end up marrying Ginny. They would be perfect for each other, and she's been in… love with him ever since she first set her eyes on him. This… this will break Ginny's heart."
"Ginny knows already, dearest," Arthur hugged his sobbing wife. "She's a beautiful girl and she's strong, too. She'll have to beat the boys away with a stick, mark my words. Besides, she looked just fine, you know, even after the kiss. I was worried about that, so I was watching her."
"And that brings us to another important point," Dumbledore continued. "Please listen carefully, because I believe this might prove critical to their very survival. You must not try to separate Harry and Cedric. It's more than a teenage infatuation. I abhor to think what might have happened tonight, if Harry had taken the Goblet alone. They saved one another, those two, and if either had faced Voldemort alone, that wouldn't have been possible."
"How… how can you be so sure it's not just puppy-love, regardless of that?" Penelope asked.
"Because of the kiss," Dumbledore answered with complete conviction. "I don't know how much you know about phoenixes, but for obvious reasons that's been a special interest of mine. The miracle that we witnessed tonight is impossibly rare, but just because of that it has several times been thoroughly examined and a matter of many learned studies. It requires special circumstances to happen. A phoenix is an extremely magical creature, but even a phoenix can't bring anyone back from the death without one crucial ingredient…"
"What?" Amos asked.
"Love," Dumbledore answered simply. "That fragile, miraculous thing. Fawkes had set the spell, so to speak, in the graveyard. But it would all have been for nothing without the final seal. To release the miracle, a token of true love is needed. If Harry had not really loved Cedric, the kiss would have been for nothing. Cedric would still be dead. And vice versa, if Cedric hadn't desperately wanted to come back to his loved one, Fawkes wouldn't even have set the spell. The kiss and what happened after is an irrevocable proof that they really love each other."
The discussion didn't end there. Molly still had misgivings, and when Dumbledore said she should talk to Bill, she almost went ballistic, thinking that Dumbledore meant Bill was gay too. Both Dumbledore and Arthur rushed to assure her that was not the case.
"I just thought," Dumbledore explained, "that Bill is young, but not a teenager any more, and rather more unconventional than you'd like, isn't he, Molly? Well, in this case that might be a good thing, because he could offer you another perspective about Harry being gay. And despite your bones of contention you also trust Bill and his judgement, don't you?"
"Well, yes, I guess," admitted Molly grudgingly, "except for the long hair and that awful earring."
"Talk to Bill, then," Dumbledore said, "and remember that you don't have to understand why Harry and Cedric are different. Only thing required is that you accept the fact that they are. Everything else will follow."
"And if you need to talk about all this," Penelope Diggory added, "I'm almost always available. Drop by, or send an owl. I'd be delighted."
"Thank you, Penelope," Molly said, "I might just do that, if you don't mind."
"I seem to remember," Amos Diggory said at that point to Dumbledore, "that you had some other thing also to discuss with us?"
"You're quite correct," Dumbledore agreed. "Have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"
"No, I can't recall that I have," Amos said.
"That's excellent. I would like you both to join. Immediately, if that suits you."
The next days were peaceful compared to all that happened on the day of the Third Task. Harry had to stay another two days in the hospital wing because of his leg wound, which turned out to be rather trickier than most. Small amounts of acromantula venom had after all infested the wound, and it took some time for even such an excellent healer as Madam Pomfrey to cure that kind of infections.
The very first morning in the hospital wing Harry had a chat with Amos and Penelope Diggory, and it was surprisingly pleasant. Harry had feared that meeting, but he got along just fine with Cedric's parents, and their attitude towards him had turned altogether warm and welcoming. Cedric wasn't around, he'd been allowed to leave after Madam Pomfrey's examination had showed him to be healthier than any person had any right to be. Fleur and Viktor had also left the hospital wing with Cedric.
Cedric soon came back though, waving the Daily Prophet.
"I'm dead, apparently," he said, grinning.
"What?" asked his father, gobsmacked.
"Today's paper must have gone to print before they got the report of… you know, the phoenix incident."
"Really," said Penelope, "how strange. Let me see."
Cedric was right. His dead face was plastered on the front page, with a huge headline reading 'Diggory Dead! The Tragedy of Tri-Wizard Tournament!' and several theories of what had happened.
"Well," Harry mused, "I guess they'll rip even bigger headlines tomorrow, then."
But strangely enough, they didn't. Just a day before the end of term Hermione found a correction piece in tiny typeface next to the classified ads, and that failed completely to relate what actually had happened, just putting Cedric back to life and claiming a fault in communications.
"They just don't want to talk about it," Hermione said, "because you're gay."
And Harry had to agree with that.
The winnings Harry had split with Cedric, who refused point blank to take it all. Harry wondered what he should do with the rest, since he already had more than enough gold in Gringotts. He had considered giving the lot to Weasleys, but Arthur turned it down and Molly, she didn't come to visit him at all.
After Harry got out of the hospital wing, he had to face a school full of people who knew he was gay and together with Cedric. To his (very limited) knowledge such a public gay affair was a first for Hogwarts. He asked about it from Hermione, who just said she didn't have the faintest idea.
"What about 'Hogwarts: A History'," Harry asked.
"Don't be idiotic, Harry," Hermione answered. "Even if they recorded love affairs in a history book like that, they certainly wouldn't talk about gay relationships. In some respects, wizarding world is positively Medieval."
But Harry didn't find it so. Of course, he and Cedric both had to endure stupid jokes, less-than-nice nicknames etc., but now that he had nothing to hide, and after all they had gone through, it was surprisingly easy to ignore. And they had supporters, too. Fleur and Viktor, the twins, and many others. One day Ginny hexed Malfoy to oblivion when he had invented an especially colourful way of describing Harry and Cedric's love life. Flittwick, who just walked by, gave Gryffindor fifty points for Ginny's excellent hex. Many muggle-born or half-blood students knew somebody who was gay or at least knew it was relatively common in the muggle world. So they got used to it. It helped a lot of course, that no Rita Skeeter articles on them appeared in the Daily Prophet or, indeed, any writings mentioning their relationship.
"Well, she's not currently in a position to write anything at all," Hermione said enigmatically. She was smiling like a cat with a bowl of cream, but instead of explaining, she left without a word. A quarter of an hour later she came back to show Harry, Ron, Cedric and Ginny a small glass jar with an angry beetle buzzing inside.
"That's never…" Ron started.
"It is indeed," Hermione said proudly. "She's an unregistered Animagus, and I captured her. There's an unbreakable charm on the jar, so she can't transform back to human form."
"Hermione," Ron said, "I love you. I really do."
Despite the lazy last week at school, there also was an undercurrent of urgency in the air. Hagrid and Madame Maxime were preparing a trip somewhere together, and it didn't look like a holiday. Snape, when he reappeared at the end of last week was even gloomier than normally, and that was an achievement in itself. There were owls flying around in odd hours carrying letters, and several aurors dropped by Headmaster's office during the week. Mad-Eye Moody, the real one, got out of the hospital wing and started to talk about the coming war and to plan defences against all possible and impossible feats of Dark Arts.
On the day of the Farewell Feast, Harry went to see Dumbledore. He burst into Headmaster's office, after giving the password, and interrupted a conversation between Dumbledore and the sphinx Onyx. Harry wanted to prove that Cedric and Hermione were wrong in their claim that Fawkes had given his own life for Cedric's and to thank Fawkes profusely for saving Cedric's life in the process. However, Fawkes was nowhere in sight.
"Fawkes is gone, Harry," Dumbledore said in a low and serious voice.
"But," Harry said, around a lump in his throat, "I thought phoenixes didn't die!"
"You can't kill a phoenix, love," Onyx responded and sidled to Harry, curling her tail around him like a comforting arm and speaking before Dumbledore had a chance to say anything, "There's a difference."
"She's right," Dumbledore agreed. "Even if phoenixes hatch very seldom, the world would be filled with them if they never died. It's like Onyx said, they can't be killed, but they can choose to die and move on. Actually the only way a phoenix can die is to give their life for somebody else. It's called the Gift of a Phoenix, Harry, and like the species itself, it is extremely rare. There is only one previous case ever documented on the British Isles."
"But," Harry said again, "how did it happen, then. Cedric... he was dead already. And you've told me yourself that people can't come back, once they are gone."
"That's still true, Harry. Even Fawkes couldn't have saved Cedric if he had already moved on," Dumbledore explained. "But a soul lingers for a while, at least briefly, before going on to the next world, whatever that may be. And, as you can probably imagine from the effects of Fawkes's song, a phoenix can talk directly to one's soul like very few creatures can. We can't discuss with the souls of the people who leave us, unless they choose to stay as ghosts, but a phoenix can. And as you should well know, tears of a phoenix can cure any malady or injury of the body..."
"But I thought," Harry protested again, "that the killing curse doesn't leave any injuries."
"Strictly speaking, that's correct," Dumbledore admitted. "It severes the connection between the soul and the body in which it resides, thus stopping the body from functioning. It leaves no physical injuries in itself, and that's why it's such a mystery to muggles, whenever they come accross its victims. But, just like with any other death, the body starts to disintegrate almost immediately after it dies. The cell structure starts to break, the organs to fall apart, and a phoenix can fix that. Cedric is probably healthier now than he was before his death. But Fawkes, he has moved on instead of Cedric, and we shall see him no more, until it's our time to follow."
And without any other sign of sorrow, a single tear trickled down Dumbledore's cheek. It was large and clear and catched sunlight beautifully. To Harry, it was almost as precious as a tear of a phoenix, for it proved both that Dumbledore had not lost his humanity in the tangle of politics, war and intrigue he had immersed himself in, and that he trusted Harry enough to show it. Harry fell silent, nodded to both the Headmaster and the sphinx and saw himself out. He needed to be with Cedric.
THE END