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Mid-air, I clamped my sharp teeth down on Voldemort's shoulder, and he screamed in pain and surprise. I used my immense momentum to somersault forward. And as I came out of the mid-air flip, I slammed him onto his back, and spun around before he or the Death Eaters could react. Harry was running towards the portkey, and I charged straight through the line of Death Eaters, viciously ripping off the arm of one of them as I ran forward, going so fast I became a shadow. I lifted Harry up onto my back with a quick movement and he gripped my fur tightly in one hand. I grabbed Cedric's robes in my mouth as Harry leaned down and scooped up the portkey.
We all disappeared in a flash of swirling light.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In the midst of the sudden flash of light from the portkey, I shifted back into my human form and we collapsed to the ground. I was forced into the grass by the weight of Harry's body, and even as he groaned and rolled off of me, we didn't get up, and I didn't open my eyes. A torrent of sound deafened and confused me; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams... But I remained where I was. I was disoriented, confused, relieved, and horribly stricken with grief, all at the same time. I would've been content to simply lie there for the rest of my life, but a pair of hands turned me over.
"Gia!"
It was Professor McGonagall.
I heard something similar happening to Harry, less than a foot away from me. Reluctantly I opened my eyes, and looked past McGonagall's concerned face at the starry sky, somehow knowing that Cedric was up there. In my peripheral, I saw Dumbledore crouched over Harry. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around us, pushing nearer, and I pulled on whatever strength I had left and forced myself to my hands and knees. Ignoring McGonagall's words for me to lie down, I crawled over to Harry and collapsed on his chest protectively.
We had come back to the edge of the maze. I could see the stands rising above us, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above. Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Cedric to him even more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.
"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back, Voldemort."
"What's going on? What's happened?" The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over us; it looked white, appalled. "My God—Diggory!" it whispered. "Dumbledore—he's dead!"
The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on us gasped it to those around them... And then others shouted it—screeched it—into the night—
"He's dead!"
"He's dead!"
"Cedric Diggory! Dead!"
"Harry, let go of him," we heard Fudge's voice say. I knew Harry would put up a fight, and I slowly slid my hands to his.
"Please Harry," I begged hoarsely, "let him go. He's not there anymore."
Harry peered tiredly at me, and I could see the raw emotion still swimming in his slightly clouded eyes. I looked up to the sky. "He's there Harry, let him go."
Harry finally let go of Cedric's body and his arms came tightly around me, and mine around him. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents…" Harry muttered to Dumbledore, whose eyes had misted. The old man nodded seriously. I vaguely remember being pulled to my feet, as Harry and I supported each other. The next ten minutes or so were a blur of voices and screaming. The next thing I was truly aware of, was someone handing me something. The scent told me that it was Pepper-Up Potion. I downed it, and the coughing on my left told me that Harry was there, and he drank it too.
Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself... He looked as white as Fudge had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry's face. "Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"
"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," said Harry. I had the most awful taste in my mouth, and I didn't feel entirely grounded, but it was an immense improvement from before.
I could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field. "What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody. I glanced sharply at Moody from the corner of my eye. He didn't notice. I narrowed my eyes. Only Death Eaters and people on the Dark Side called Voldemort the Dark Lord.
"Blood," said Harry, raising his arm. The crook of his arm was still raw and bleeding where Wormtail had cut him. Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss. And I absently cast a strong healing charm on Harry. His wound immediately began to scab and then peel. Within a few minutes, it would be a scar.
"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Loads of them..."
"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?" I gripped my hands on the edge of the chair I was seated in, my wand clenched in my right hand. This didn't feel right. The questions Moody was asking weren't right.
"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here—they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end—"
Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down. "I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly.
"Who is it? Karkaroff?"
"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them... But I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."
"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then—he didn't put my name in the goblet?"
We'd already gone over that, but I supposed Harry needed certainty.
"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."
I had frozen unnoticeably. My suspicion toward Moody this year had been warranted, it seemed. But now, something told me that this wasn't even Moody. As I had every time I'd been in Moody's office, I heard that faint, fluttery heartbeat coming from his trunk. If it was a pet, he'd been giving it the bare minimum to survive. I kept one ear on the two men beside me as my mind raced with plans. With the more information that Moody gave away, the more I had to change my plans. I pretended to be shocked as Moody magically tied me to my chair.
"What the hell, Professor?" I growled, struggling. "This had better not be another one of your stupid training methods!" Harry looked at me as though I were rather dim, but I could tell he knew I was acting. His eyes…they were so lost and confused, so hurt by everything.
Moody ignored me, his wand still pointed at Harry's heart. Honestly, I could escape these ropes incredibly easy. I listened as Moody and Harry got into some sort of argument, and as Moody raised his voice angrily, I focused on that odd power that had been popping up all year. Immediately, the rope went up in flames that didn't affect me and quickly crumbled into ash. In the same second, I stood and stepped between Moody and Harry, my wand pressed into his throat.
"Give me your wand." I hissed, allowing my fangs to lengthen again. The Moody-Imposter sneered.
"Listen, you little mutt—"
I snarled at the insult and overpowered a banishing charm, sending the imposter flying backwards. He crashed harshly into a wooden table, and it splintered all around him. I approached him angrily just as the door to the office was blasted off its hinges. On edge, I spun and had a curse on my lips until I saw that it was Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.
At that moment, I fully understood why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible I or Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.
The three professors stepped into the room. "Come on Potter, Grey," Professor McGonagall said. The twitching of her thin lips made it obvious that she was holding back tears.
I took a step back, away from her. "No," I said sharply. All four people, not counting fake-Moody, stared at me. "We deserve to know the truth about what happened, about why we were forced to do your jobs for you!" I said harshly. Both McGonagall and Dumbledore flinched, but Snape simple eyes me with something in his eyes that I couldn't identify.
"It—Moody—" Harry stuttered.
"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew—and I followed." Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape. "Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."
If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned to leave the office. I understood the command about the dog, but Winky…
"Wait," I said.
"Yes, Miss Grey?" Dumbledore said calmly.
"I employed Winky months ago, do you want me to call her?" I asked.
"In a moment dear, Severus, simply go retrieve the Truth Potion." Dumbledore said. I thought about why Dumbledore would need Winky, and then I stared at Moody.
"Professor, may I see his hip flask for a moment?" I asked. Dumbledore peered at me, but handed me the flask. Flipping the top back, I took a sniff and held it away, wrinkling my nose. "Yepp, that's definitely Polyjuice." My eyes widened. "Professor, you have to open his trunk!"
"Why?" he asked seriously.
"All year, I've been hearing this odd, faint fluttery sort of heartbeat coming from it. If this Moody is a Polyjuiced imposter, than the real Moody might be in that trunk!" I said.
Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneak-o-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. I wasn't too amazed as my trunk was almost exactly the same, except mine had a ton of protection spells and curses on it.
Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement. We were looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. "Sweet Merlin," I breathed, "that is sick."
Harry stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office. I saw Dumbledore gather his robes, and stopped him. "I don't think you're frail by any means sir, but I'm a bit more lithe and agile. I'll do it."
"By all means, Miss Grey." Dumbledore said.
Rather gracefully, I simply jumped over the side of the trunk and fell ten feet, landing on the balls of my feet. I kneeled down and studied the unhealthy man. "He's stunned—I can sense the strain on his mind, so he's been under the Imperius extensively—he's very weak." I called up. "Of course, they'd need to keep him alive though. He's freezing. Can one of you toss me a cloak or something?"
A moment later, Dumbledore dropped what I recognized as the Imposter-Moody's cloak. I cast a warming charm on it and wrapped the real Moody in it, tucking it around him. I conjured a fluffy pillow, and eased his head from the cold, hard floor onto it, before nimbly climbing out of the trunk. "I would've brought him up, but I don't know if I should move him or not." I said.
"A wise choice," Dumbledore commended.
Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor. "Polyjuice Potion, as Miss Grey said," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask—he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair..." Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk. "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done... On the hour... Every hour... We shall see."
Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Harry and I stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence... Then, before our very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction. I saw a man lying before me, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. I knew who he was, and my earlier guess had been correct.
We had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr. Crouch that he was innocent... But he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older... There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. "You may call Winky now, Miss Grey." Dumbledore stated.
"Winky!" I called.
The elf popped into the room and curtsied gracefully, before smiling up at me. "Mistress Gia is needing something?" she asked.
At that moment, Snape had returned with Professor McGonagall on his heels. "Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"
"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, freezing and staring down at the man on the floor. Winky's smile faded as she looked around and her eyes landed on the unconscious form of her former master.
"Is—is Barty Crouch Jr. being dead, Mistress Gia?" she asked softly.
"He's only stunned, Winky." I said.
"Severus, you have the potion?"
Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall amongst the table's splinters. "Out of curiosity, how did he get in this position?" Dumbledore asked.
"He tried to attack Harry—I didn't let him." I said simply.
Dumbledore nodded, while Professors McGonagall and Snape looked from me, to Harry, to the fake-Moody. Winky stayed firmly beside my right leg, watching the scene with almost detached interest.
Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Ennervate."
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level. "Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The man's eyelids flickered.
"Yes," he muttered.
"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"
Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, and then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice. "My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."
I felt Winky trembling against my leg, and patted her head consolingly.
But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice. "The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors. My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."
The man's eyelids flickered.
"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master... Of returning to his service."
"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.
"The Imperius Curse," Crouch said. "I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior." Winky's trembling became harder.
"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"
"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father to signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."
"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.
"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end."
"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know." Another flicker.
"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket." I shot Harry an exasperated looked, and he shrugged, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "
"I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."
"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"
"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."
"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned. When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."
Winky's entire body was shaking from head to toe, and I was hard pressed not to let her go home yet. "Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then... And then..." Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me."
Harry and I shared a look.
"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant—perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door." The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life.
Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak. "It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."
"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.
"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first—"
"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.
"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."
"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore. "Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."
"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.
"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban."
"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I had monitoring and tracking wards placed all over the castle, grounds, and even the forest."
"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father." I felt Winky fall to her knees, but she refrained from making any sound. Her face was buried in her hands.
"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"
"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I was watching the wards. I sensed Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I sensed Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore that Snape had told me where to come."
I shook my head furiously. Why hadn't I sensed him?
"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the wards. When everyone was gone, I transfigured my father's body. He became a bone... I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."
There was complete silence now, except for Winky's muffled sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight..."
"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards." The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky shook and tried to suppress her sobs at my side.