Hello everyone! So sorry this is late, it has been a long week, with an even longer night. Tonight was our work Christmas party for the kids, so I've only just got home.

Thanks to Pienuniek and Sally Hopkinson. I love you girls. I'd be lost without you.

Twilight and Harry Potter belong to Stephanie Meyer and JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Please enjoy ...

Chapter Nineteen ~ Sins of the Son

"What? What do you mean?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. "I wasn't gone but five minutes!"

I stepped aside and revealed Viktor, completely unconscious on the ground near where he had been bobbing down next to a confused and babbling Mr. Crouch. I had been using my extra senses to figure out what had happened in the time that Viktor and Barty had been out here alone. With the new, though slightly disturbing, information Winky had given me, I had determined that Barty Crouch Junior had come from the Forbidden Forest after Harry had left. He had stunned Viktor and either strengthened the Imperious Curse on his father, to make him follow, or had taken him by force back into the Forbidden Forest.

I was glad the night was rather balmy. The scents that were left behind were still crisp and clear, making it easy to figure out what had happened and easy to follow them. What concerned me, though, was the fact that I had never put two and two together about the fake Mad Eye Moody and Barty Crouch Junior being one and the same.

"And how do we know it wasn't Mr. Potter who cursed Mr. Krum before running for us? Or yourself, Masen, when you ran ahead of us?" Snape sneered before he demanded, "What have you done with Bartemius Crouch?"

I snarled furiously, causing Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape to jump. But I wasn't the only one to voice my rage. Harry spoke up with indignation. "Why would I attack my friend? And where, not to mention how, would I be able to hide a body so fast?"

Snape's face twisted with rage. "That's the brilliance of magic, isn't it? It can help you do things that seem to be impossible. I should …"

"You should know … right?" I snarled again. "Given your history. Should we be concerned that you will turn your back on all you have, all those who have given you a second chance after everything you did, or did not do, the first time around?"

"How did you?" Snape sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. I could see that his thoughts were completely stumped.

"Know?" I asked. "I've told you over and over that vampires have special abilities. We hear more, see more, than you could ever imagine. Just because you refuse to acknowledge what we've been trying to tell you for years doesn't mean it isn't true. But right now, we're off topic. When have Harry or I given you the impression that we would do anything like you're suggesting? When have our relationships seemed that fickle to you?"

"Yeah? Then prove it! What happened here?" Snape basically yelled at me.

I stared at him hard. Not wanting to have to prove anything, but just as I was about to open my mouth to tell him exactly what had happened, a new voice entered the conversation.

Edward? I hope you can hear me, the real Alistair Moody called out to me. His thoughts focused, almost screaming at me. Don't tell them anything. Please. I'll explain it all later.

I ground my teeth together to stop from blurting out the truth. "I don't need to prove anything to you. I wouldn't lie about something like this. I've never lied about something like this. Ask anyone around here." My arms spread out wide. "In fact, why don't you ask the man standing right behind you? The one who gave you a chance, an offer of forgiveness, when no-one else would."

"What would you know about forgiveness, about second chances?"

I snorted. An ugly, bitter sound. "More than you could ever know, or understand. You are not the only one who lived a life on the dark side. But unless you actually talk to someone, open up, and look at someone other than yourself, you'll never know what other people are going through."

"Enough," Dumbledore said, interrupting our verbal sparring match. "This isn't helping at this point in time, but Edward is not wrong, Severus." While it was nice to hear Dumbledore backing me, I was worried if it was too little, too late. Dumbledore held up his hand when Snape went to argue the point. "For now, Severus, I need you to go and get Headmaster Karkaroff and bring him here."

We were quiet until Snape had walked off. Dumbledore spoke first. "I understand your reticence when it comes to Severus, Edward."

"Do you?" I growled. "That man is more trouble than he is worth."

Dumbledore paused a beat before turning to Harry. "Harry, my boy, can you please fetch Professor Moody for me. I need his help with trying to locate Bartemius Crouch. Edward, you too, please?"

I nodded as Harry turned to go.

"No need, Albus. I'm here."

I froze, hearing the voice of Moody—or who I had now learned was Barty Crouch Junior—but walked to the edge of the forest where the scents of the two Crouchs mingled. I used my enhanced senses to figure out which way they were going.

"I'm 'ere too, Professor," Hagrid said as he ambled into the clearing.

"Good. Hagrid, I want you to escort Harry back to the castle, please? Alistair, can you go look through the forest for Barty?"

"'Course, Albus."

I was silent as Barty Crouch Junior walked past me into the forest. Once he was gone, I looked back over at Dumbledore, then made my way into the forest.

Once I was out of sight of Dumbledore, Viktor, and now Karkaroff—who was ranting and raving about how this was a one-sided competition, that Dumbledore was cheating by having two champions—I shifted into my snow leopard and stalked off after Crouch Junior. I followed the scent trail of father and son, now strengthened by the scent of Barty Crouch Junior a second time.

I followed along the trail, on the ground, until it really got strong, then I took to the trees. It didn't take me long until I came across where Junior had gone.

I laid down on one of the higher branches of the tree I was in, using the leaves as camouflage as I watched Junior. He approached an area of the clearing he was in with cold, calculating movements. I could see there was absolutely no emotion left in him as he pulled what I now knew to be an invisibility cloak off the body of his father.

Well, I sighed, what's left of him.

I watched from my perch as Junior bobbed down next to Senior. "You brought this on yourself, you know. If you didn't fight the curse so hard, I would have kept you alive. Cursed, but alive. Then again, who knows? Maybe once my time here was done I might have killed you anyway. Wormtail may finally get what's coming to him now."

Junior snickered as he stood. He pointed a wand at him and said a transfiguration spell I had never heard before. I stood to be able to see the body better as it transformed from that of his father into a femur bone. With that, Junior reached down, picked the bone up, and hid it in his oversized jacket. He sauntered off without a look around at his surroundings. For someone who had survived the first wizarding war, on the wrong side I might add, he was being rather reckless. He obviously thought he wouldn't be caught.

Once he was gone from the small clearing, I jumped down from the tree and crept my way over to the spot where Barty Crouch Senior had met his end. I had just reached the spot when I heard the fast approaching sound of hooves. I spun in the direction they were coming from and let out a growl that would scare just about anybody. But what appeared in the clearing was not just anybody. It was a centaur.

He was a damn striking presence in that clearing. He seemed to take up the majority of the space available. In fact, his dark brown body stood as tall as I did, when I was on my two feet at least. So his actual head was well above my own. He stared down at me through dark eyes and a piercing glare.

"Be still, young wizard. My name is Bane, and I mean you no harm."

My growl cut off with my surprise.

"Yes, I know what you are. I also know what you are doing in that tournament. I have consulted the stars, and you must be careful. Do not stop the things that are foretold. Do you understand?"

I sat on my haunches and tilted my head at the centaur talking to me. I got the gist of what he was saying but was unsure how he used the stars to figure out what was happening.

Bane looked up at the sky through the treetops. "Venus is in retrograde with Mercury, while Mars is prominent. These things must happen. Do you follow?"

I nodded my big furry head to indicate that while I was unsure what he actually meant; I knew I had to let the tournament happen how it was supposed to. It meant that I would be hit with the killing curse at some point during the duration of the third task.

I hoped that Bella would finish that vest before the task was due to commence.

After Bane left the clearing, following my nod, I made my way out of the Forbidden Forest and back to where Professor Dumbledore was waiting for a progress report.

"Any luck, Edward?" Dumbledore asked when I stepped out of the forest in my human form.

I shook my head. I knew I was lying, but I'd now been told by two people to let things happen and to keep it to myself. "No, sir. Sorry."

"Thank you." Dumbledore sighed. "Head back to the castle and check on Harry. Stay in the tower, please?"

I took off without another word. I had a conversation to have with Winky.

~*~UHS~*~

Bella was the only one in the Common Room when I arrived. She was waiting patiently for me in my recliner but had a very serious look upon her very beautiful face.

"Bella?"

"Winky is waiting for us, Edward. She's with the real Moody in the bottom of his trunk, but we have a problem."

"What is it?"

Bella stood and indicated to my desk. On the top lay the Marauder's Map. I smirked; we hadn't used it in some time. In this instance, Bella leaned over and tapped the part of the map that Junior's office was located. "See this?"

I bent over the desk. "Junior is there."

"So it's true?"

I stood and nodded. "Oh, yeah. I can't believe I didn't pick up on the similarities before. Their scents are especially similar."

"Okay. Then we need to see Winky. Kreacher?"

With the familiar pop that accompanied a house elf joining us, Kreacher arrived in my corner. "What do you need, Miss Bella?"

"Edward and I need to go see Moody. And we need to get in undetected."

"Kreacher can do that." Kreacher smiled, and it was just this side of evil. "Now?"

I snickered at his face. "Now."

Bella grabbed Kreacher's left hand while I placed my hand on his shoulder. With a small snicker, Kreacher clicked his fingers and the Common Room disappeared. Within seconds, we were reappearing at the bottom of Moody's trunk, but this time, we were in a different room than the one he usually occupied. This one was much more comfortable, as in it had a few couches and a coffee table. In the corner on a rickety table stood a shallow bowl that, after a second look, could be a pensieve, if the milky substance swirling around in it was any indication.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Moody said from his place on one of the couches. "Come and take a seat."

Bella smiled and walked over to the other couch where Winky was waiting. "Nice to see you again, sir. Nice to see you looking better."

"I am feeling better. Thank you. Of course, I have to put on a show for him up there, but definitely better." Moody nodded to the chair next to Bella. I sat down and looked at him expectedly. "Ask your question, Edward. What is it you need to know?"

"Why, sir? Why shouldn't I have told Professor Dumbledore what I had found?"

"I suspect you know."

"Because whatever's coming needs to happen. We can't stop what's coming. You're the second person to tell me this. Why?"

Moody sighed and leaned back into his chair. "The only way to truly beat Voldemort is to let him come back. That's the simple answer."

I nodded. "And the more difficult answer?"

"I think Harry is the link to it all—helping him come back and how to end him."

"Heavy load for the guy," Bella murmured. "Do we tell him?"

Moody shook his head. "This is something he needs to figure out on his own."

We were all quiet while we thought about the implications of this information. Harry was a key, a tool to take down the worst dark wizard since Grindelwald. It was a heavy load. My concern was this: was Harry going to make it out alive?

"Can Winky talk now, Master Edward?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I had to leave so abruptly, but Mr. Crouch Senior appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest earlier."

Winky sucked in a gasp. She shook ever so slightly. "Is Mr. Crouch okay?"

Kreacher could tell by the look on my face that what I was going to say would not be to Winky's liking, so he made his way over to the couch that Bella and Winky were sitting on.

Bella reached over and held onto Winky's hand as I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. "I'm sorry, Winky, but he didn't make it. Mr. Crouch was killed tonight in the Forbidden Forest."

Winky nodded, although, I wasn't sure she knew she was doing it. "Winky guesses it was Mr. Crouch's son?" I nodded to her question and watched as Winky took several deep breaths in and out to calm down. "Winky has no loyalty to Junior, and she will miss Senior, but Winky must tell her new friends what she knows. Do you have time to listen?"

"Of course, Winky. We always have time to listen, even if it's postponed a little." Bella smiled at her. "When you're ready, we're listening."

"Mr. Crouch has many secrets, many secrets that Winky was entrusted with. But some secrets need telling. As Winky said to Master Edward and Miss Bella earlier, the person posing as Mister Moody is actually Bartemius Crouch Junior." Winky was breathing heavier, both scared and nervous that something would strike her down for uttering even this much. She reached up to pull on her ear, but instead, she twirled it around and around, trying to curb the urge to hurt herself because she was telling things she shouldn't be.

Moody leaned forward. "How did he get out of Azkaban prison?"

"Winky does not know, sir. All Winky knows is that Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Crouch went to see Bartemius at Azkaban when Mrs. Crouch was sick. They both came home and continued on with their lives. Then one day, Winky came home from doing their shopping to find Mrs. Crouch gone … missing … and Junior was there instead. Mr. Crouch tasked Winky with looking after Junior. He made Winky tether Junior to Winky. So wherever Winky went, Junior did too."

Things started to click into place. Things from before the school year started. "He was there. At the Quidditch World Cup. Sitting right next to you." I clicked my fingers and pointed at Winky.

I saw a flicker off to the side as Winky nodded. When I focused on that flicker, I could see that a 3D image appeared out of the top of the Pensieve. It looked to be like a trial of sorts, and from what I could see, Ludo Bagman was at the center.

"And he was with you in the forest where the Dark Mark was cast … wait a minute … he cast the Dark Mark!" Bella exclaimed excitedly, pulling me from my thoughts, then her countenance darkened. "So, Mr. Crouch released you from his family for his mistake of having his son at the tournament."

While it was a relief figuring out some things from the beginning of the year, I could see that Moody had questions. "How did Crouch keep his son under control, Winky?"

"He … he used the Imperious Curse, sir. It kept Junior relatively under control."

"Relatively?" I asked.

Bella sighed. "Let me guess, he fought it, and eventually, he pulled out of it."

"Winky tried, but Winky could not keep him under control. The longer Junior was under the spell, the more control he was able to gain back." She froze but pulled her hand from Bella's to twirl the other ear before reaching out for Bella's hand again. "Junior started to fight harder … after we had a visit … a visit from a ministry person … someone who worked with Mr. Bagman. Um … B-bertha? Winky thinks."

"Bertha Jorkins?" I asked. "The one who's missing?"

Winky shrugged before she spoke again, more quietly than before. "Winky does not know, nor does Winky know what happened after the World Cup, but it cannot have been good if Junior is here posing as Mr. Moody." Winky shuddered when she was finished, as if it were a great relief off her shoulders.

Moody winced at the tone Winky started out with. We all kind of did. "You did what you did to survive, Winky. You were doing what your master wanted you to do, what any good house elf would do. Do not berate yourself for that."

"Thank you. May Winky please go back to the Weasleys now?"

"Are you sure that's where you want to be?" Bella asked, looking over at Kreacher, who was still comforting Winky.

"Maybe Winky can stay for a little while." Winky looked at Kreacher out of the corner of her eye.

The pensieve caught my attention again as I chuckled quietly at Bella's smug smile. It seemed she was scheming to get these two elves together.

I was just about to ask Moody if I could check out his pensieve when I heard the unmistakable sound of locks disengaging. Moody was the only one to make a move when the sound reached his ears. He pulled out his wand and waved it around. The room we were sitting in started to shift and split. The couch that Moody was on disappeared, and he ended up sitting on the floor while everything we were sitting on moved over and a wall came up between us. The last thing I saw as the door closed was Moody slipping his wand into the secret pocket in his pants and pulling the blanket over his leg.

"Any idea what's going on?" Bella whispered as she came to stand next to me.

"Yeah. I think Moody is about to have a visitor."

We were both quiet as we listened to Moody antagonize Junior. He wasn't being anything but his condescending, sarcastic self, but it was getting under Junior's skin like there was no tomorrow.

Junior will kill him if Moody keeps this up. I hope he's not putting on a show for us.

I snorted quietly. "I have a feeling this is how Moody always is with him. It wouldn't matter if we were here or not."

Time to go, Edward. Come see me another day. Moody's thought's interrupted our quiet conversation.

"Moody says it's time to go." I spun around to see that Kreacher had Winky's hand in his, and they were talking quietly. "Kreacher, can you and Winky get us out of here, please?"

"Uh …" Kreacher startled. "Kreacher can do that. Can Kreacher accompany Winky home afterward?"

Bella smirked into the sleeve of my jacket before turning back to the elves in front of us. "Of course you can, Kreacher. You don't even need to hurry back."

"Thank you, Miss Bella."

Bella reached for Winky's hand as Kreacher still held her other one. I once again grabbed Kreacher's shoulder. With a click of his fingers, we were back in the Gryffindor Common Room. As soon as I turned around, Kreacher and Winky were gone.

Bella snickered. "Well, that's an interesting development."

"Mmhmm. 'Cause you aren't angling for little elven babies or anything."

Bella gasped, placing her hand on her chest. "I would never."

"Sure, Bella. Now, off to bed."

"Yes, dear." Bella pursed her lips for a kiss, which I gladly gave to her, before pushing her off toward the stairs. I laughed as Bella giggled her way up to her dorm.

~*~UHS~*~

The next couple of days were quiet while we tried to work out what kind of things we were going to be facing in the maze. Bella had thrown herself into finishing off the vest for me. She had some sort of breakthrough when something she'd heard had given her an idea, so she spent every second that she could working it out in the trunk.

We were both on a spare lesson between classes while some of the others were in class. But the mind I was paying special attention to was Harry's in Divination. It seemed the class was warm, smoky, and oh so comforting. I snickered quietly to myself—it seemed Harry was going to fall asleep in the middle of class. Not that I could blame him. Professor Trelawney was not the most entertaining of teachers.

It didn't take but a few more minutes for Harry to fall sound asleep with his head resting on his arms. At first, his dreaming was peaceful. Just a pitch-black peacefulness. I loved when I was able to experience peaceful dreams, and the one that started to appear in Harry's mind was one of my favorites. He was flying. But it wasn't the normal flying dreams to which I was accustomed. In this one, he was either on the back of a large eagle owl, high up in the air, or he was the large eagle owl.

His mind was free. And the feeling he was experiencing was unlike anything he had felt before. It was so real that I could almost feel what he was feeling as he flew through the air. As Harry looked around, I could see clean, green fields, a forest over on the right, hills in the distance, and houses dotted around the place where I could see light flickering in the windows. It seemed that it was one of these houses that the eagle was flying toward.

The closer we flew, the more detail I could see. The house was a beautiful country home made of old stone and covered with ivy. Most of the windows were closed up with shutters, bar the one the eagle was flying to. Things seemed to morph and change as we flew through the window and into the house, and when we landed, we were in the corner of a room, which was bathed in darkness. And in the middle of the room were two distinct shapes. One was a rather large snake, and the other was a fat, balding man with rat-like features and buck teeth.

Wormtail.

But he wasn't his usual slimy self. Wormtail was on the ground and writhing in some serious pain. He would writhe for a short period of time before he'd get the chance to rest, and pant out from holding his breath through the pain, then someone would torture him again. I didn't understand who until a high-pitched voice slithered out from the darkness.

"You're very lucky, Wormtail. Lucky that someone could fix the blunder you made. Crucio," Voldemort's voice called out from the dark, cursing Wormtail and making him scream out in pain.

As fast as the dream had begun, Harry was back inside the classroom with Professor Trelawney standing over him. "Where were you?" she asked. "Were you in the beyond?"

"Uh …"

"You were!" she whispered. "Tell me—what did you see?"

"Um …" Harry stood on shaky legs, his only thought to get to me. "I … uh … need to go." With that, Harry almost fled from the room with the stares of all the children on him, including Neville. Although, Neville was more worried about what had happened.

"Edward? What's going on? I've been calling you for ten minutes." Bella's voice brought me back from Harry's mind.

"I'm sorry, Bella. Harry's dream called me in. He's on his way to me, and I think I need to take him to Moody."

"Oh? That bad?" Bella looked down at me with concern.

"I think it's something we need to talk about, yes."

Bella sat down in my lap, kissing my jaw. What about Dumbledore?

I checked on Harry's progress down to me; he was almost here. "I think that would be a bad idea at the moment. I'm not entirely sure he's on our side. And if he is, how much of that extends to us or to his grand plans. How's the vest going?"

"Couple more spells and I'll have it ready." Bella smirked. "It will be ready for the last task. It will protect you." She sighed. "I wish I could give it to all of you. But …"

"But we need to let things play out how they are supposed to. I know."

We were quiet until Harry burst through the portrait. "Edward! Did you see?"

I stood, placing Bella on my chair, and held Harry's shoulders as he almost plowed into me. I helped to steady him. "I did, Harry, and I think we need to go talk to someone."

"Yeah … okay …" Harry panted, nodding as I turned him around and marched him toward the portrait.

"I'll see you when I get back, Bella."

"Yeah, okay. Love you."

"Mwah." I smirked as the portrait shut behind us. I could still hear her giggles as I walked down the first flight of stairs.

"Where are we going, Edward?"

"To the one person who might be able to explain what the hell is going on with your dreams. If he can't help then I'm not sure who else can."

Okay. Harry nodded and followed along as I led the way to Junior's office. We made it down the stairs and around to the DADA classroom, and of course, Junior's office. The worst part about doing this while classes were on was that we couldn't sneak in.

"Now what?" Harry whispered.

I smirked. "Kreacher?"

"Yes, Master Edward?"

"We need to get in to Moody. Can you, please?"

"Of course, Kreacher will help. Hold on," he said with a small bow. Harry and I placed a hand on each of Kreacher's shoulders and waited while he clicked his fingers, taking us into Moody's trunk and into the room Moody created so he was more comfortable while waiting for Junior to check on him.

"Boys? What are you doing here?" Moody asked, jumping a little.

"I think we may have an issue, Professor," I said, shuffling Harry into a seat.

"What's going on?"

With Harry's help, we described every facet of the dream Harry just had in Divination class. From the eagle owl, to the house described in the dream, to what I thought was Voldemort punishing Wormtail for something or other.

Moody sat quietly, contemplating all that we had told him. I kept out of his thoughts as much as I could, but some things slipped through. Not that I could make any sense of it. Harry and I were both silent until Moody sat forward and asked a question I hadn't been expecting. "Have you ever had any dreams like that before, Harry?"

Harry looked to me first. I nodded to show that I thought he should tell Moody everything. "Yeah … yes. Over summer, I had one as well."

"What happened in that one?"

"It was like an out of body experience. It was like this one where I watched through someone or something else …"

"Be specific, Harry." I interrupted. "We figured out afterward that we were looking through a snake. And if our suppositions, or mine, were correct, Harry was watching through Nagini."

"Really?" Moody asked softly. "What happened in this dream?"

Over the next several moments, Harry told Moody what he remembered, and I filled in the blanks when Harry forgot.

"The voice was the same. The same high-pitched, shiver-inducing voice in both dreams." I sighed. "It seems that Voldemort is alive and gaining ideas, power, and more followers."

Moody sighed from his seat on the sofa. "I always knew he would. There was no way he was defeated like that. He was just too powerful. Especially for a baby. Sorry, Harry."

"No apologies necessary. I never understood how I was able to defeat him back then." Harry looked confused. "I mean, I know it was protection from my mother, so why do people think it was me?"

I snorted. "That's an easy one. Because nobody was told about your mother giving herself over for you. They weren't told that she sacrificed her life for yours in a true act of love."

"Nothing stronger than that bond," Moody agreed. "You know, I remember back in the day the order talking about something. It was well known amongst those fighting against Voldemort that a child would be his downfall, but I always thought there was more to it than that. I always wondered whether Dumbledore knew more than that."

I growled under my breath at hearing that. It seemed that Dumbledore was keeping more from us than ever before. Why couldn't the man just be honest?

"But what do these dreams mean?" Harry asked, pulling me from the ire that was taking over my thoughts.

"I'm not sure they are dreams, young Harry." Moody glanced meaningfully at me, so I tapped into his thoughts. I could see that Moody thought there might be a connection between the two, but he wasn't sure how or why. "When I get out of here, let me do some research. I might be able to give you some answers. Do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Write down any other dreams you have. Keep track of them. How often. What happens in them. And anybody you recognize."

Harry swallowed. "I can do that."

A flicker of silver from the corner caught my attention again. I looked over to see that the pensieve had projected another 3D image of the same courtroom I had seen before.

"What's going on in those memories?" I blurted out when the curiosity finally got to me.

Moody chuckled at me, as did Harry. "I think that is something you should see. Actually, you and Harry both." Moody pulled out his wand and pointed it at the corner. "Accio pensieve." The picture I had seen projecting from the pensieve disappeared as it flew through the air and landed on the table in between all of us. Once again, Moody pointed his wand at it. "Engorgio," he said, making it large enough that both Harry and I could place our heads inside the bowl.

Moody swirled the tip of his wand around in the bowl so that the first memory he wanted to show started to show.

"When you boys are ready."

Harry and I looked at each other before we both took in a large breath and leaned forward, placing our faces into the bowl. The drop to the seats in the courtroom was as thrilling as it had been the first time I'd viewed a memory. It was such a rush to be able to jump right into someone's memory, more so than reading thoughts.

We dropped into a room that was much like a theatre with seats that rose up around at regular intervals, much like you'd find in a university in the muggle world. And just about every one of those seats was filled with witches and wizards of varying ages, races, and classes. I looked around to see this room was dimly lit by way of the various torches and sconces that were placed around the room. If I had to guess, by the fact there were no windows, I'd say that we were underground.

By far, the most disturbing thing though was the chair in the center of the room. It had chains circling the arms and legs, as though someone was supposed to be chained to the chair.

"Rather disturbing, isn't it?"

Both Harry and I jumped with the voice that appeared from behind us. We spun to see that the Moody who was in the trunk was sitting next to and smirking at his younger self.

"That chair in the middle. It gives off and ominous feeling, doesn't it?" Moody asked when we failed to answer.

I looked back to the center chair and observed all the witches and wizards watching it before I answered his question. "It does. What's it for?"

"Just watch," Moody murmured.

All the witches and wizards in the room were facing the circular basin at the bottom where the chair with the chains sat. They were all quiet and kind of morose. Whatever was going to happen was weighing on them all.

Everyone was quiet as they sat waiting and watching. I noted they weren't looking at the chair but at a door that was past the chair. In the wall of this cold, dark room. It was all silent until it wasn't. Harry seemed to jump with the sudden sound of footsteps that were approaching the door. I thought there would be more than one pair, considering what I thought this room was used for.

"Who's coming?" I asked quietly as if the people in this memory could hear me.

Moody grunted with displeasure. "Just wait."

The door at the back of the room flew open, startling just about everybody in the room, including Harry next to me. I knew what was going to come through that door the very second frosty breaths started coming from the witches and wizards in the room. But what shocked me more was the fact that the prisoner the two dementors were escorting was none other than …

"Professor Karkaroff …" Harry breathed from beside me. "He looks terrible."

"Nothin' that a little time in Azkaban won't do to ya," Moody said from behind us.

"So he was caught? Originally?" I murmured.

"Oh, yes. The slimy weasel. Continue watching."

The dementors guided Karkaroff to the chair in the middle; using some kind of magic at their disposal, they looped the chains up around Karkaroff's legs and arms, securing him tightly to the chair. Once the chains were secured, the dementors left through the door they came in, much to the relief of everyone in the room if the relaxed shoulders were anything to go by.

A cold detached voice rang out from below us. I looked down to see a younger, alive, and more youthful-looking Barty Crouch. "Igor Karkaroff, you have asked to be brought from Azkaban to provide evidence of other death eaters still at large and to, hopefully, reduce your sentence."

"I have," Karkaroff said as he straightened in his chair as best he could. "I-I-I want to b-b-be of help to the ministry. I will do anything …"

The crowd around the room started to titter and quietly chat about what they wanted from Karkaroff, including the Moody from this memory. "Filth," memory Moody mumbled, catching Dumbledore's attention. "He's going to get out, if he can provide enough names. It took me six months to track and catch him, and Crouch will let him out if he can provide enough names." Moody shook his head. "If you ask me, we should listen to him, then throw him back to the dementors."

Dumbledore seemed to make a noise that was half disgust and half disagreement.

"Oh, that's right," memory Moody chuckled. "You don't like the dementors."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I just don't think we should align ourselves with these creatures."

"Even for filth like this?"

Dumbledore's answer was interrupted by Barty Crouch talking to Karkaroff once more. "You say you have names for us? Let's have them, please?"

I looked to Professor Moody, who had joined us in his memory, while Karkaroff stumbled through trying to answer Mr. Crouch. "You still think that way, Professor?"

"I'm sure there have been criminals in the muggle world whom you thought should be left out to rot?" Moody growled in response. I nodded to answer his question. "These death eaters are the worst of the worst because they didn't just follow Voldemort, but they joined in with the tormenting, bullying, and torturing of the people who opposed or stood up to them. What would you have wanted?"

"I would have wanted them all locked up and had the key thrown away. But to subject them all to the torturous existence of the dementors day in and day out? Isn't that just cruel?"

Harry snorted. "As far as I'm concerned, they reaped what they sowed. Thanks to him, and them, I had to grow up without a mother."

I nodded along with Moody. "Fair enough."

Mr. Crouch's voice rang out over Karkaroff's fumbling excuses. "If you have no names for us, you will go back to Azkaban!"

"Antonin Dolohov!" Karkaroff very nearly shouted. "I saw him torture countless muggles and non-supporters of the Dark Lord!"

Memory Moody muttered from behind us, "And helped him do it."

"Dolohov was captured not long after yourself," Crouch said, sounding bored. "Any others?"

Karkaroff looked alarmed. Now that he knew one of his names was worthless, he had to be wondering how many more were also. I wished I could hear him.

"Rosier. Evan Rosier!"

"Rosier is dead. Preferred to fight instead of coming along quietly."

"Nothing more than he deserved!" Karkaroff agreed frantically.

"Took some of me with him, filthy bastard," Moody muttered from behind me, causing Harry and me to spin around. We found him pointing to the spot where part of his nose used to be. Harry cringed from beside me. He, like many others at school, had wondered what had happened to Moody's appearance over the years. Guess he'd gotten an answer to that question.

"Any more?" Crouch asked again.

"Yes," Karkaroff replied in a panic. "Travers—he helped murder McKinnons. Mulciber—he specialized in the imperious curse, forced many people to do terrible things. Rookwood—he was a spy. He passed information to he-who-must-not-be-named from inside the Ministry itself!"

This name struck a nerve, and not just with Crouch. All the assembled witches and wizards started whispering amongst themselves.

"Rookwood?" Crouch asked, nodding to a witch nearby, who started scribbling on a piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"

Karkaroff nodded excitedly. "Yes, yes, the very same. From what I know, he used a network of well-placed wizards both in and out of the ministry …"

Crouch cut Karkaroff off once more. "But Travers and Mulciber we have. Very good, Karkaroff. We will deliberate. In the meantime, you will be sent back to Azkaban …"

"Not yet, please, not yet. I have more. Snape! Severus Snape!"

"Snape has been cleared by this council," Crouch said, rather coldly, I might add. Like he didn't think he should have been. "Albus Dumbledore has vouched for him."

I snorted while rolling my eyes. Why was I not surprised by that?

"No!" shouted Karkaroff. "He is a death eater! I assure you!"

Both Harry and I spun around to look at Moody's memory of himself and Dumbledore, only to see Moody watch Dumbledore with great skepticism as Dumbledore stood up from his seat. "I have already given evidence on this matter. Severus Snape was a death eater before the downfall of Voldemort. He rejoined our ranks prior to Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy—at great personal risk, mind you—to feed us information."

At this, Harry snorted. Not soon enough. He was there because Mum married Dad and had me. He could have saved her.

"Today, he is no more a death eater than I am," Dumbledore stated as he retook his seat. By the look on his face, he considered the subject closed. Like everyone should be of the same opinion.

Crouch nodded in Dumbledore's direction before turning back to Karkaroff. "Very well, Karkaroff. You have been useful. I will review your case. In the meantime, you will go back to Azkaban …"

Crouch's voice trailed off as we withdrew from that particular memory. The area around us turned dark grey, almost black, as we waited for whatever else Moody wanted to show us.

"Professor Dumbledore really believes in Snape, doesn't he?" Harry asked quietly as he turned to face Moody.

"He does." Moody nodded.

"But you do not?"

"Let me put it this way … I'm not sure a leopard like that can change its spots."

I smirked. "People used to say that about vampires."

"Ah, yes … but your family is an anomaly, even in the muggle world, am I correct?" Moody smirked back.

I laughed as the scene around us started to fill in once more. "Of that, you would be correct. We are an anomaly. Only one other group of vampires lives the same way we do."

"So, yes, leopards can change, but ones like Snape—who are inherently mean—usually cannot." Moody expanded on his thought from before just as we found ourselves back in the same courtroom from before.

What the? Harry asked as we both looked around the room. Oh, new memory. Different day.

"New trial," I whispered.

This one is decidedly different. More relaxed. This one seems more … fun?

"It reminds me of going to football games back in the muggle world."

Moody scoffed from behind us. "This was the biggest farce I'd ever seen in my days as an auror."

"Is that … Rita Skeeter?" Harry asked as he pointed to a young blonde witch with a short bob, wearing magenta robes and sucking on the end of an acid-green quill. I think she was trying to be coy, but it wasn't a look her face could pull off successfully. She actually looked like she was smug, about to get the scoop of the century.

"That would be her." I snickered. There would be no more scoops for this rag reporter.

"Hmph, there's a story there." Moody grunted. "One you'll have to tell me one day."

Both Harry and I laughed before we both said, "One day."

Our laughter cut off when the same door Karkaroff came through opened. Instead of a prisoner being escorted by dementors, Ludo Bagman walked into the room under his own steam. This wasn't the Ludo Bagman we knew. This was a man at the peak of his career. He didn't have a broken nose; he was leaner, more muscular than the current version. He was nervous, yes, but that didn't stop him from waving at a couple of swooning witches when he sat in the chair and the chains didn't immediately wrap him up to keep him there. In fact, he seemed to be emboldened by the fact that the chains didn't snake their way around the arms and legs of the chair.

"Ludo Bagman," Crouch's voice rang out coldly and clearly from where he was seated with Moody and Dumbledore. "You have been brought here, in front of the Council of Magical Law, to answer charges about the movements of death eaters. The evidence has been reviewed. Do you have any more to add?"

"Ludo Bagman?" Harry and I asked together before I continued. "He's too stupid to be a death eater."

Moody chuckled heartily from behind us. "You might be right about that!"

"I know I've been a bit of an idiot"—Bagman paused while there were a few giggles around the room—"but I didn't know …"

Crouch held up a hand to stop Ludo from talking. It seemed like he'd done this a lot over the years. "Ludovic Bagman, you were caught handing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters. For this, you should be sentenced to Azkaban for a period of …"

Pandemonium broke out around the courtroom. There were outcries from many witches and wizards, including physical demonstrations on how wrong they thought Barty Crouch was, but none was as loud as Ludo Bagman himself.

"I told you I had no idea!" he cried, his eyes as wide as saucers, fear taking over his features. "None at all! My dad was friends with Rookwood. I never would have thought he was in league with you-know-who. I thought I was gathering information for our side! He promised me a job in the Ministry when my Quidditch days were over. I mean … I can't keep getting hit by bludgers forever!"

There were a few laughs around the courtroom, allowing people to settle down and sit back in their seats.

"We'll put it to a vote," growled Crouch. "All those in favor of imprisonment?"

Not one? Harry thought as he looked around.

I snorted. "That's not unusual. In the muggle world, celebrities, sports stars, even the rich, tend to have a different set of rules than everyone else. It's not right, not fair, but that's how it is."

Mr. Crouch was disappointed in his fellow members of the jury as was evidenced by the angry scowl on his face, but he was downright murderous when a fellow witch stood up from the bench and congratulated Ludo on his performance in the Quidditch match against Turkey the previous Saturday.

As Ludo Bagman took a bow and started signing some autographs, Barty Crouch growled under his breath to Dumbledore. "Despicable. Absolutely despicable. Rookwood get him a job in the Ministry … indeed. It would be a very cold day if Ludo Bagman ever joined the Ministry."

Harry and I burst into laughter as the courtroom faded away, causing Moody to chuckle at us. That very cold day must have come much sooner than Mr. Crouch would have liked. Our laughter faded as the courtroom faded in once more. The atmosphere this time was … tired, depressing, and a stark difference from before.

The silence was absolutely deafening, only broken by the sobs of a frail-looking witch with wispy white hair who was crying into an old-fashioned hanky. Something that went out in the muggle world years ago. She was sitting next to a gaunt, sickly looking Barty Crouch. His hair was decidedly greyer than it had been in the previous memories, and a nerve was twitching, ever so fast, right at his temple. He was stressed, and it showed.

"This is the one you should really take note of, Edward, Harry," Moody rumbled as he leaned forward from his seat. He looked like he wanted to take more notes of what happened this time, than his younger counterpart, who was looking much like the Moody we've come to know and love. It seems his years of being an auror had caught up with him.

"Bring them in," Crouch called out, his voice echoing through the chamber.

At Crouch's words, the door to the back of the chamber opened yet again. This time, however, there were four prisoners being led in by six dementors. They were led to four chairs, which had been placed center stage. I looked them over as each of the prisoners was placed in their chair and secured with the chains around them. There was a heavyset man, who stared blankly up at Crouch. A thinner, nervous looking man, whose eyes darted around the chamber, looking for danger or a way out, I wasn't sure. There was a woman with hooded eyes and thick, shining dark hair. She sat on her chair like it was a throne and all those around her should bow at her feet.

But it was the last one who really caught my attention, and not for the fact that he looked like he was only in his late teens. No, this one caught my attention because when the woman sitting next to Crouch saw him, she sobbed harder into her hanky and started rocking back and forth in her chair. This boy meant something to her. He was somebody important.

Crouch stood. He was stiff as a board, but his anger was palpable. If Jasper had been here in this memory, he would not have been able to contain the amount of anger that was rolling off of him in waves. He glared down at the four in the chairs, looking for all the world that he was going to fire the killing curse without any hesitation.

Crouch spoke, his voice clear and loud in the silence still enveloping the room. "You are here today, in front of the Council of Magical Law, so we may pass judgement on you for a crime so heinous …"

The next words spoken made my mouth drop open. It certainly explained a lot of Crouch's attitude.

"Father …" the teen cried out. "Father, please!"

"… that we have rarely heard the likes of it within this court." Crouch continued without even a passing glance at his son.

"Dear Merlin," I sighed as I spun to look at Moody. "He had to punish his own son?"

Moody nodded and pointed back to where Crouch was getting ready to continue.

"We have evidence that the four of you participated in the capture, and by means of the Cruciatus Curse, torture of Frank Longbottom. You did that believing he had information about your exiled master, he-who-must-not-be named …"

"I didn't, Father!" shrieked, who I now knew to be, young Barty Crouch Junior. "Father, don't send me back to the dementors!" When he could see that his pleas were having no effect on his father, he turned his pleading eyes to the woman next to him. "Mother, please don't let him do this. Mother, stop him. I didn't do it!"

"Furthermore," Senior bellowed, causing Junior to go silent, "you are accused of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank's wife, Alice, when he could not give you the information you were searching for. The four of you planned to bring you-know-who back into power and continue living the destructive, deadly lives you were presumably living beforehand. I now ask the jury …"

Junior started pleading again for his father to hear him, his mother to stop what was happening, and that he didn't do what they were accusing him of.

I looked over my shoulder at Moody. "Professor, who are the other death eaters with Junior?"

"That would be Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange and his brother Rabastan. Surely, you recognize him?" Moody smirked. He knew that name would draw recognition.

"Oh … really? That makes sense." I nodded, turning back to the proceedings.

Crouch turned his back on not only his son but the other three people tied up in chains. "So, I ask you, members of the jury, if you believe as I do to raise your hands and sentence these four to life imprisonment in Azkaban."

In unison, the jury made up of the right side of the room raised their hands as one. Once the verdict was delivered, Junior started screaming at his mother and father, pleading for them to save him.

But it was Bellatrix my eyes fell to because, as the dementors came in to take them back to Azkaban, she stood tall and proud. She looked up at Senior, defiance in her eyes, and said in a calm voice, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban, and we will wait. He will rise again, he will come for us, and he will reward us for our faithfulness. Because, beyond any of his followers, we alone believed. We alone tried to find him!"

She's completely crazy. Harry looked over at me wide eyed. Were all their followers like that?

"Those who follow cult leaders, crazy leaders, are usually just as crazy themselves. Especially the most devoted ones."

The three Lestranges walked out with the dementors like it was the utmost honor to be in their presence. Junior was trying to fight them, all while calling out for his parents, but we could see the effect the dementors were having on him.

"But I'm your son!" Junior yelled out as a last ditch effort to have his father save him.

Senior's eyes bulged maniacally. "You are no son of mine!" he shouted. "I have no son!"

Mrs. Crouch fainted away at the words Senior had spoken and as her son was pulled out of the chamber by the dementors. The whole scene dropped into chaos as the other witches and wizards shouted and cursed the captives.

"Time to go." Moody placed a hand on each of our shoulders and pulled us back toward the surface of his pensieve. "A lot to take in, wasn't it?"

"That was really Mr. Crouch's son? In that last memory?" Harry asked, still in disbelief.

"It was."

"Did he really torture Neville's parents?"

Moody sighed. "It's entirely possible that the way he acted in the courtroom was just that—an act. But because they were unable to give good evidence, it's entirely possible he was innocent, just like he proclaimed."

"That's a diplomatic answer if I ever heard one. What do you really think?" I smirked at Moody.

"I thought he was guilty as sin then, and even more so now, considering he's been in contact with Voldemort. Watch your backs, but let things play out as they should. For us to truly rid the world of Voldemort, he must come back."

The three of us were silent, thinking about everything we had seen and everything that could be coming for us. I was just about to call for Kreacher to come and take us back to the Common Room when Harry spoke up, breaking up the silence. "Professor, why do you think my scar hurts when I dream of Voldemort?"

"Because that is no ordinary scar, Harry. It's a link between you and him because of that failed spell."

"You don't think I'm dreaming these things, do you?" Harry murmured.

Moody shook his head. "No, Harry. I think these things are actually happening. My theory is that when Voldemort is feeling particularly … nasty or mean …"

"I can see inside his head."

I wasn't sure what that would mean for us going forward, but I had to hope it was a one-way connection, otherwise that would mean Voldemort could see what Harry was up to. And that would not bode well for the future.

~*~UHS~*~

I'm looking forward to your thoughts and theories ... See you in a fortnight.