Dear Mother,

I don't know if you've been following up with the curious behavior of Mr. Crouch, but Dad told us about it when we saw him in March in Hogsmeade. If you don't know already—Mr. Crouch stumbled out of the Forbidden Forest last week and attacked Viktor Krum who was speaking with Harry. Harry had gone to retrieve Dumbledore, who Crouch was asking for in his madness. When Dumbledore and Harry arrived at the scene they found Krum stunned and Crouch gone. Moody couldn't find him in the forest. I'm assuming that Dumbledore would have told you and Gabriel this, but if he didn't, I wanted you to know. It is all very odd…I told Harry to write you, but he wrote to Dad. I said I'd write you.

Harry said that Crouch was saying he made a mistake and it was all his fault. Bertha Jorkins is dead and Voldemort is getting stronger. Harry says he also mentioned his son…Dad mentioned him as well. Said he died in Azkaban—

I didn't finish reading Carrigan's letter. I dropped it on my desk and turned, quickly exiting the office. I dashed down the stairs, calling Gabriel's name. He met me in the hall between the foyer and kitchen, looking alarmed.

"What's the matter?" he questioned.

"When you went to see Sirius in Azkaban," I said quickly as I tried to arrange my thoughts so I made some sense while speaking. "Did you see Barty Crouch Jr. there?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "So?"

"When did he die?"

"I don't know, a few months after entering Azkaban," Gabriel shrugged. He ran his hand over his head of brown straight hair and sighed. "He didn't last very long. The boy was a bloody coward. He probably ended up with Voldemort just like Peter did, out of fear."

I nodded my head as I tapped my fingertips against my lips. I closed my eyes to think carefully about the idea that had just popped into my head. I opened my eyes to look at Gabriel, who was studying me with concerned green eyes.

"Dumbledore told you about Crouch last week?"

"Yes," Gabriel said with a frown. "I didn't want to bother you. You and Mitchell have been so focused on Penelope…I didn't want to split your focus. What are you thinking?"

"Carrigan just said that when Crouch spoke to Harry he was muttering that Bertha was dead, he made a terrible mistake, Voldemort is getting stronger, and something about his son."

Gabriel nodded, waiting for me to continue and make sense of my thoughts.

"Gabriel," I whispered quickly. "What if his son isn't dead? What if that's the terrible mistake he made—somehow getting his son out of Azkaban?"

"No," Gabriel stood up straight and shook his head quickly. "There is no way. You remember what Crouch was like when he was head of the E.A.T. He would never forgive his own son for being a Death Eater. Besides, I was there when they threw Crouch Jr.'s body bag into a hole in the ground on the island—I saw them bury him."

"So!" I stammered because I was really on a roll. I felt like I was coming close to figuring out my Father's plan. If I was that meant I could stop him. "It is completely possible for someone to fake their own death, then dig their way out of a shallow grave."

Gabriel frowned, he didn't like where I was going with this.

"Okay," he said. "So, what if Crouch Jr. is still alive? So, what? What does that have to do with anything?"

"If Crouch Jr. is not in Azkaban, my Father is growing stronger, and Mr. Crouch hasn't been showing up for work—no one has seen him for months—and all of a sudden he stumbles onto Hogwarts grounds completely mad and asking for Dumbledore, then goes missing again—what could that mean? Gabriel, Harry thought Crouch was mad. He was not lucid or making sense—what did Jr. go to Azkaban for?"

"Torturing the Longbottoms until they went mad," he whispered sadly as he saw the connection.

"Jr. would be a free ride for my Father," I insisted. "He'd be a means of unlimited resources to the Ministry, to the tournament—anything. All he had to do was torture and restrain his Father. Voldemort is probably staying at his freaking house! Did Sirius ever get back to us about checking out Crouch's house?"

"No," Gabriel said as I turned on my heel. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Crouch's house," I said instantly as I marched up the stairs.

"Hold on, Cadence," Gabriel called as he followed me. "This is crazy!"

"Hey," I retorted as I entered the bedroom and made a b-line for the closet to change into more suitable clothing. "This is a lead—I can feel it in my gut this is something. I have to check it out—the tournament is over in three weeks. We both know that my Father is using it somehow to either kill Harry or make a return. That means we're running out of time."

"But this is crazy, Cadence," Gabriel said leaning in the doorframe of the closet as I stripped my clothing off.

"Which is why it makes perfect sense."

Gabriel frowned and sighed as he rubbed his face and stepped into the closet. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close to his body, then smothered me with a deep passionate kiss that made my skin tingle with desire. His hands stroked my cheeks and tangled into my hair, pulling playfully. Gabriel's lips were tender against mine, making me crave more of his love via his lips. He planted soft gentle kisses on my lips before pulling away completely. Without another word, he turned and reached to the top shelf in the closet, pulling down my shoulder holster.

"You'll be wanting this," he whispered with a small smile.

I beamed and took it from him. "Thanks."

He disappeared from the closet as I placed the holster on the ground for a moment. I finished dressing in tight black jeans, a tight black v-neck long sleeve shirt, and a black corset vest. I bent low and tucked my feet into mid-shin high black leather boots, then picked up the holster and wrapped it around my shoulders. I slipped my two favorite silver blades in the holster and tucked an extra dagger into my boot. My wand slipped perfectly into my other book and then I exited the closet, carrying a thing black cloak with me.

Gabriel was waiting for me down in the kitchen. He extended a cup of tea to me, making me smile. I paused and took it from him then sipped it carefully.

"Yes?" I said with raised eyebrows.

"You'll be careful?" he asked.

"Always am," I said after another sip of tea. I put the cup down on the table and touched his cheek as I stood close to him. "Besides, you'll be the first to know if I'm not."

Gabriel nodded and leaned down to kiss me again.

"If Mitchell writes or stops by tell him I'm following up a lead. I'll catch up with him later."

"Alright."

"You're going to Hogwarts or the Ministry today?"

"Both," Gabriel said. "Moody wasn't able to find Crouch in the Forbidden Forest last week. I'm going to take a look around, see what I can find. Dumbledore asked me to."

"Does the Ministry know that you're working Crouch's disappearance and the tournament?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Gabriel said with a sly side-ways smile that broke my heart. I stood on my toes and kissed him quickly.

"Alright," I whispered. "I'll be back."

Gabriel held my arms and looked down at me with very serious eyes. "If you need me, just call for me."

I nodded my head to appease him. "I won't need you."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'm more dependent on you then you are of me," he said with a grin. He kissed me again and playfully slapped my thigh. "Get going."

"See you later," I said as I pulled away from him. I exited out of the front of the house. The sun was beaming bright in the brilliant May morning. I pulled on a pair of aviator sunglasses and walked down the porch steps to my front lawn. Without a second thought I Apparated out of the yard.

When I appeared in the front yard of Barty Crouch's house I frowned slightly. The house was in need of some serious repair. From the outside, it looked as if no one lived there. The once beautiful flower beds were over-grown with weeds; no flowers were to be found in them. The white paint of the house was faded and worn from the long winter weather and in desperate need of touching-up. A few of the navy blue shutters were broken, and faded as well.

I advanced up the overgrown cobblestone path to the porch. The two-story house, with a wrap-around porch, looked uninviting. The windows were all darkened by closed curtains, and the door had a sign on it that said "No Solicitors." As I stepped up the porch, the stairs creaked loudly. I frowned. Perhaps I was losing my touch. I had forgotten how to investigate quietly.

I tried the doorknob and it was locked. Not surprising. If it was open I wasn't quite sure what I would have done. It probably was not a good idea to go into the house with out announcing myself. I wasn't one hundred percent sure what I would find—but at the same time, that's why I was out there, right? I was looking to see if there was something in the house that wasn't meant to be found.

Carefully, I side stepped away from the door and walked down the porch, following it around the house. I leaned close to each window, inspecting them to see if there was anyway to see inside. No such luck. I jumped over the edge of the porch when I reached the back of the house and panned out to search the yard. There was a white and green gardener's shed towards the back of the property. I carefully made my way across the backyard to see if there was anything of interest in the shed.

Peaking in through the window of the shed made curiosity spread through my body. There was a cot in the far corner, opposite the window, with pillows and a blanket it on it. The rest of the shed was full of gardening tools: wrecks, spades, hoes, shovels. Besides the cot, nothing else looked out of place. I decided I should take a closer look around the shed. I moved back to the front of the shed and smoothly pulled the door open.

Inside, the shed was cool and dark. I approached the cot and touched the blanket and pillow. They were still warm. I frowned. Someone had just been sleeping in the cot and moved before I arrived. They must have moved into the house. Something caught my eye on the opposite corner of the shed. It was a pile of rope, used and bloody. I frowned deeply and picked it up. The blood on the rope was dried and fell off in flakes as I moved the rope. Looking at the gardening tools I saw a few mixed in that seemed out of place. I saw some knives, a whip and a few other sharp implements that I imagine could only be used for torturing someone. This caused me to frown deeply.

Whoever was staying in the shed was not the person being tortured. There was no lock on the door of the shed, and the blood on the implements was dried, like on the rope. The person who was sleeping in the shed was no doubt a guest who accepted that someone had been tortured recently and didn't ask questions, or they were the one doing the torturing.

I replaced the rope where I had found it then turned to leave the shed. It was time to inspect the house—or at least get a better look inside somehow. I reached for the door handle and stepped back in shock when it was pulled open for me. My stomach flipped and I swallowed nervously. When I looked upon the person who had opened the shed door, my eyes immediately glared with icy cold harshness.

Penelope Talon stood before me, wearing jeans and white tank top and her usual ruby red lipstick. She left her hand on the door handle and placed the other on her hip as she looked me over with glowing green eyes.

"Well," she said with a grin. "If it isn't my good friend Cadence Coleman. Looks like we're following the same lead again."

"You'd like me to think that," I replied shortly.

Penelope smirked and bowed her eyes. "I assumed my game was up."

My hands rested next to my thighs, hanging useless, but tingling with desire to grab my knife and throw it straight into Penelope's chest. I'd enjoy cutting her heart out myself…but that'd probably give my Father too much pleasure. He'd love the fact that I killed someone out of anger and revenge.

Penelope stepped forward and lifted her wand. She flicked it easily. I was disarmed without a chance to fight back. She caught my wand and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans; my knives fell uselessly on the shed floor by the door.

"Come on," she nodded her head back to towards the house. "There is someone you should see."

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, knowing that she was referring to my Father. Penelope grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, making my shoulder pop. She pressed her wand against my waist and pushed me forward into the yard, forcing me to walk towards the house. There was no point of fighting back just yet. Honestly, I wanted to go into the house. I didn't want to run away and escape just yet. I wanted to get into the house, learn everything I could, maybe even killed Penelope and my Father, then escape. As we walked across the overgrown grass of the yard, approaching the back door to the house, I tried to clear my head of every private, intimate thought I could. I didn't want to walk into my Father's den with thoughts of Gabriel, Carrigan or Harry pumping through my mind. I needed to clear my head if I wanted to stay alive and not let anyone I loved get hurt.