CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: RETURN TO THE INFIRMARY

Regardless of how little attention Icarus usually paid to time, he noticed that exam season drew closer and closer. Most of his days were spent with little sleep (a combination of studying and nightmares) and little food. He spent his days alone and in silence, ignoring the blazing sun outside the castle walls.

The exams that year were for the most part held in the Great Hall and he passed them with ease.

A lot of the teachers that year had decided to hold practical examinations for additional scores. Moody's was extremely easy - to ward of the Imperius curse.

Snape's was fun - brewing Armontentia.

Professor Flitwick squeaked happily as he successfully made a cupboard sing opera.

Icarus almost collapsed with relief after his final exam.

"Thanks, Dobby," he said, taking the flask of pumpkin juice from the elf gratefully.

The elf was sporting quite a few new pairs of socks and his pale blue tea cosy tottered on his head dangerously.

Dobby was the only elf that would allow Icarus to thank him. The others usually would get quite irritated.

"How's she doing?" he asked, gesturing over to the filthy mass in front of the fireplace. Winky had been exceptionally miserable after she found out Mr. Crouch had gone missing.

Dobby shook his head, "Not well, sir. Is not well at all."

Icarus frowned, concerned. Dobby shoved a platter of cornish pasties into his hands. He looked at them, surprised.

"Sir has not been eating well!" Dobby squeaked angrily.

That was the first time he'd been told off by a House-Elf. He ended up eating them all quite happily.

He left about half an hour later, full and very satisfied, but still feeling empty.

"Icarus!" growled a voice behind him, as he laid his hand on the entrance to the common room. He froze, suddenly feeling quite sick.

"Professor."

"Do you have a minute? I'd like to speak to you about your exam results."

"Isn't the feast starting soon?"

"It won't take long."

Reluctantly, Icarus followed Professor Moody up into his office. It was a very interesting office - he'd never been in there before. Scattered around the office were instruments he recognized as sensors for intruders and dark magic. In one of the corners stood a very large black trunk.

"Come in, then," Moody said, limping around his desk and locking the door.

Icarus wasn't feeling very well fed and comfortable any more. He took a few steps further into the room, trying not to look at any possible escape routes.

"You're a smart kid, Icarus," he grumbled, watching him intently with both eyes. He grinned suddenly. "I'm glad you remembered what I've been saying all this time. Out of all people, I'm glad it's you."

"Professor?"

"Constant Vigilance!" he shouted loudly. Then his face fell, suddenly serious. "You're aware of my little secret, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're on about, Professor." Icarus said calmly, feeling his guts twisting.

"How long? How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"Now isn't the time to act a fool, boy." He growled, leaning forward on his cane. Icarus scowled but remained silent.

Moody flicked his wand at the door.

"Muffliato," he muttered.

Icarus moved, but he wasn't fast enough. His wand fell out his hand as he collapsed, screaming.

The pain let up for a moment as Moody clunked around the desk and lifted the boy by the front of his robes.

"You think I didn't notice that Dumbledore was keeping a closer eye on me? You think I didn't see you speaking to him and Professor Snape? No matter...I only need to get rid of you for tonight."

Icarus struggled weakly against the strong grip on his robes. Even he wasn't immune to pain. Moody was dragging him somewhere and then he was falling down into darkness.

He cried out as he felt his leg break beneath him.

The little spot of light above him vanished and he sobbed quietly.

"Who're you?" came a gruff, familiar voice from one of the corners. Icarus tried scrambling away, but his leg hurt so badly, he gave up.

"A student," he replied, gasping. "Are you the real Moody?"

"Yes," he grumbled. Icarus heard him move in the shadows. "What's the matter with you, boy?"

"I think I broke my leg..." Icarus muttered, trying to search for a way out. He winced. "Yeah. Definitely broken."

He lent back, feeling dizzy and slightly sick. It was very dark, wherever they were.

He felt himself drift into a light, fitful sleep.

. . .

Icarus came to with a shock as he heard a door slam above him. He was shivering, soaking in sweat.

"In here, Harry...in here, and sit down...You'll be all right now...drink this..." said Moody's voice, sounding very distant.

"no..." croaked Icarus, trying to move. Pain shot up his body and he whimpered.

"Drink it...you'll feel better...come on, now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened..."

He could feel eyes on him in the darkness but found that he didn't care. He rolled slightly, trying to push himself up.

"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's voice quietly.

Icarus tried telling Harry to shut up, to stop talking to him, but his voice broke and he couldn't get any words out.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.

"Blood."

"And the Death Eaters? They've returned?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Loads of them..."

Icarus was sobbing, trying to get to his feet. Shut up, Harry.

"There's no point," said Moody from somewhere next to him. "I've tried all year."

Icarus ignored him, searching in the dark.

"How did he treat them? Did he forgive them?"

There was silence and suddenly Harry exclaimed.

"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 -"

Yes, you idiot, you're speaking to him! Icarus tried to say. He tripped over something and fell, exhausted.

"Ow," said Moody, reaching out and helping the boy sit up.

"Karkaroff?" said Harry, "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" Moody's distant voice laughed. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the 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 his ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then - he didn't put my name in the goblet?"

Icarus wanted to scream. He felt silent tears run down his face and tore his eyepatch off, frustrated.

"No. No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

"No, you didn't," said Harry. "You didn't do that...you can't have done..."

He heard Moody clunk along the floorboards of his office. He shivered, feeling cold.

"I assure you I did...He forgave them then? The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

Icarus could hear them talking, but quietly, unable to make out the words.

"...but only one person was able to discover my secret, only one person really listened to me. Really...watched me." Moody said faintly. "He has been...dealt with."

"What?"

"You're friend - or is he? The Slytherin boy. Icarus."

He heard something clatter. Don't be a fool, Harry, he thought, feeling dizzy.

Moody was raising his voice.

"The Dark Lord and I have much in common. Both of us, for instance, have very disappointing fathers...very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignation of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure...the very great pleasure...of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad!" yelled Harry, "You're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice echoing down to Icarus. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, harry Potter, you did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you!"

Icarus heard the door slam open and Dumbledore's voice; "Stupefy!"

There was the sound of something heavy flying across the room and landing in a heap on the ground. Several pairs of feet moved across the floorboards.

"No," Dumbledore said to someone.

"Dumbledore, he ought to - look at him - he's been through enough tonight -" came Professor McGonagall's voice.

Icarus almost cried out in relief.

"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand. Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."

"Moody," said Harry, "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," the man next to Icarus scoffed. "You have never known Alastor Moody. I should have listened to Icarus. I was a fool not to act sooner."

"Icarus?" Then Harry's voice raised in alarm. "Professor, he mentioned him!"

"What?"

"He said - he said that he's been dealt with. I don't understand."

There was a scuffle and a thud, as if something had been kicked.

"Severus!"

Icarus moaned, trying to stand up again. His leg felt like it was on fire, but the rest of him was drenched in a cold sweat.

"I'm down here..." he croaked, trying not to sob with pain as he grabbed onto the smooth wall, trying to pull himself up.

"What are you doing, boy? You're going to hurt yourself more." said Moody from next to him.

Icarus ignored him.

Dumbledore was issuing out instructions to Professor McGonagall and Snape, who left quickly.

"no..." Icarus moaned. "father...I'm right here..."

He heard Moody huff beside him. Then he heard footsteps draw closer. There was a rattle of keys, and chest drawers being opened and shut.

He blinked, blinded, as the top opened above him and light flooded in. There was a shocked gasp.

Dumbledore and Harry were looking down into the box, both very pale. Icarus' leg gave out under him and he landed with a thud next to the real Alastor Moody.

The original looked half asleep and very skinny. He gazed at Icarus with a hooded eye, the other an empty socket. His wooden leg was missing and it looked like clumps of his hair had been ripped out.

Professor Dumbledore jumped down and landed softly next to them.

"Profes-" Icarus croaked, then fell into a fit of coughing.

"You do not need to say anything, Icarus," said Dumbledore gently, taking in the boys broken leg and feeling his forehead. He checked on Moody next.

"Throw me the impostor's cloak, Harry. He's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see you both."

He tucked it around the man and, turning to Icarus, helped him up. With Harry's and Dumbledore's aid, the boy managed to clamber out, landing unsteadily on his feet. Dumbledore climbed out next, pulling a chair towards them and forced Icarus into it, wrapping him in a blanket.

Icarus paid little attention to the unconscious mass on the floor. Harry was looking at him, amazed.

"What?" he whispered weakly.

"Your eye," said Harry. Icarus closed it quickly, squirming away from the attention.

Harry looked for a moment, hurt, but understood Icarus' meaning only too well.

They moved their attentions to the man on the floor, who was slowly changing. Icarus was beginning to feel very tired and very sick.

The scars went first, replaced by smooth, untouched skin. The nose became whole and started to shrink. The gray hair was withdrawing, turning straw-like in color. The wooden leg dropped, replaced by the regrowth of an actual leg; the artifical eye popped out of its socket, rolling onto the wooden floorboards of the office.

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Professor McGonagall ran in first, cloak billowing, and turned pale at the sight of Icarus. Snape followed, Winky the House-elf at his heels. When he noticed the boy, however, he ran straight over to him and began to check the damage that had been caused.

"'m fine," muttered Icarus, eyes drooping.

"You're not fine," Snape snapped angrily, forcing him to drink a pain-relief potion.

Winky was accusing Dumbledore of killing her master; Harry and McGonagall were watching Snape curiously. They'd never seen him fuss over a student like that before.

"Severus, you have the potion?" said Dumbledore, holding out his hand. Snape placed a small bottle of Veritaserum in it and returned to hovering over Icarus.

Dumbledore smiled sadly, meeting Icarus' eye, before pulling the man on the floor into a sitting position.

Icarus saw him pour three drops into the man's mouth and point his wand at his chest. Icarus lent his head against his father's side. Snape couldn't care less about the attention they were receiving from Harry and McGonagall.

"Rennervate."

The man on the ground opened his eyes, dazed and unfocused.

"Can you hear me?" asked Dumbledore.

"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 shuddering breath and began to speak. It was hard for Icarus to stay focused on what he was saying. Something about Polyjuice potion...his mother...

He frowned and shook his head, trying to clear it of the buzzing that was in his ears.

"...I watched and I waited. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Dumbledore, frowning. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Smart map. Potter saw me on it. Saw me stealing ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion. He thought I was my father. We have the same name, after all." He looked over at Icarus and grinned suddenly. "Course, I've seen things on there too..."

Snape's hand tightened on Icarus' shoulder.

"At last, one evening, my father arrived at Hogwarts. I pulled on my invisibility cloak and went to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited for Potter to leave - my master needed him. I stunned Krum. Killed my father."

Winky wailed.

"You killed your father," said Dumbledore softly. "What did you do with the body?"

"Left it in the forest. Covered by the invisibility cloak. I watched the map, saw Potter speak to Snape and then Dumbledore came down. I went to them, saying Snape had sent me. Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father's body. I went back to it, watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father into a bone. I buried it, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's Hut. Then I saw..." he looked deliriously over at Icarus.

"Saw what?"

"Icarus was running to the castle. He was waiting for Dumbledore, but he didn't come. So he went to Snape's office instead...I had my suspicions. I kept watching...smart boy..." he grinned.

Icarus suddenly felt such a wave of fury that he was barely aware of everyone else around him.

"Did you tell anyone?" he murmured. Crouch Jr. smirked, unaware of the woman stood behind him. The very pretty woman. The cold one. The one from the lake.

"Tell anyone what? Your heritage? That the man stood next to you is -"

She had seized his head and with a loud crack, his neck broke and he fell sideways, eyes empty. Even Icarus was startled by what had happened. The room was silent, Professor Snape's hand tight on his shoulder. Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall had gone very white, looking between the boy and the dead man.

Harry looked away, turning slightly green.

"Master Barty! Master Barty!" Winky wailed.

. . .

Dumbledore was quick to take action.

"Minerva," he said, surveying the scene with cold eyes. "I'm going to have to ask you watch over Icarus and Winky while I take Harry upstairs. Severus, go and fetch Poppy. She will want to mend that leg immediately. You will find Fudge in front of Hagrid's Hut. Inform him of these events."

Snape left and Dumbledore escorted Harry from the room. He stopped as he passed Icarus and muttered something in his ear, to which the boy gave a vague acknowledgement.

Icarus was feeling very light headed now. He leaned his head back and watched Professor McGonagall with half-lidded eyes.

She came over to him and began searching for something.

"Whachudoing?" he muttered.

"Looking for your eyepatch." She met his eyes and her expression softened. "Or do you want everyone knowing about it?"

He chuckled weakly and shrugged. He had stopped worrying about the consequences of Barty Crouch's death.

Madam Pomfrey and Snape burst in almost five minutes later. The nurse conjured a cast for his leg and for the first time that year, Icarus saw his father without his glamour. He smiled softly, unsurprised.

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were getting the real Moody out of the chest.

Snape, who had thrown his glamour back on, helped Icarus up and placed an arm around him, to help him walk. They made their way to the infirmary, where Hermione was huddled in a small group of other gingers. Icarus vaguely recognized two of the Weasleys.

"Icarus?" she said, spotting him and running over. "What happened to you?"

He muttered something, but wasn't really too sure what he said.

"Get away, girl," snapped Snape, moving past her and helping him onto a bed.

The moment he sat down, however, his body convulsed with such a serious bout of coughing that he bent over to puke. Everything was fading out of focus now...

He felt himself being laid against the sheets...and then...nothing.