Calla Potter

by LeFoxxx

AU. Calla Potter has always been hiding. From bullies, from the Dursleys, from the teachers who only ever noticed when she didn't pay them rapt attention. But she is also the twin sister of Harry Potter, the so-called Boy Who Lived, and when they begin at Hogwarts, she must come out of the shadows and face the world, no matter what it means for her. (Slow-burning canon divergence.)

89. The Disappearance of Barty Crouch

"Calla." Harry sat himself down beside her briskly in History of Magic, just as she was trying to set up her notes. She flicked her eyes up to him.

"Yeah?"

"Look, I've got to talk to you. Last night, after I went off with Krum, we saw Mr Crouch."

She paused. "You what? The Crouch? Percy's boss, Crouch?"

"Yeah," Harry said rushedly, "he was going mad, I swear." He lowered his voice somewhat as Binn's started up his lecture. "He kept talking about Bertha Jorkins and Voldemort, and his son and the Tournament... He was talking like he thought Percy was there, but then he, well, he sounded more like himself when he was talking about Voldemort. He said to go and find Dumbledore, he wanted to talk to him, so I left Krum to stay with him while I got Dumbledore, right?" She nodded in understanding. "And I went to Dumbledore but I obviously couldn't get in because I didn't know the password-"

"Cockroach clusters," Calla supplied helpfully and he blinked at her.

"Right. That's a bit weird."

"Yeah. You couldn't get in?"

"Yeah, and then Snape came down! And I said I had to talk to Dumbledore but he wouldn't let me, he kept trying to stop me but Dumbledore came down anyway and he came with me right away, you know? He listened. So we went to find them, but Crouch had scarpered and, get this, Krum had been Stunned!"

"By Crouch?"

"I think so," Harry said. "That's what Krum said anyway. Then Moody came along, told us Snape had mentioned Crouch, which was actually a bit surprising."

"Snape isn't all evil and bats," Calla reminded her brother, who shook his head.

"Yeah, I know, it's still suspicious he was trying to stop me. Git. Anyway, Hagrid came and Dumbledore got him to get Karkaroff and Karkaroff was furious, obviously. He started talking about how unfair it was we got to compete in the Tournament-"

"He would," Calla muttered.

"And then he spat at Dumbledore so Hagrid just grabbed him, I think he would have hit him if Dumbledore hadn't stopped him and then Moody said he was going to try and find Crouch and then Hagrid took me back to Gryffindor Tower." He finished this story rather breathlessly. "I've written to Sirius already."

"And Remus?"

"Well, Sirius'll tell Remus, won't he?" Calla hummed noncommitally. "Well, he will. You know that."

"I would've written Remus first."

Harry made an annoyed sound. "Are you just trying to pick a fight?"

"No," she muttered, and took out a few rolls of parchment and her copy of Spellman's Syllabary. "We'll talk about this later, when we don't have people overhearing us." She gave him a hard glance, thinking of something. "Did Bagman give you any hints last night?"

"No," Harry whispered, staring at her. "I went off with Krum, you saw me."

"I know," Calla said simply, "but I did see the two of you talking, so I just wondered. Fleur and Cedric think it's odd."

"I didn't say I wanted him to - to want to try and help me," Harry spluttered.

"I didn't say you did."

"Fine," Harry muttered. "We're going to talk to Moody after class. See if he's found anything. You should come with us."

"Yeah," Calla said immediately, "I will." She smiled at her brother in apology and he nodded in response.

"Are you still tired?"

"Yup."

"Me too." He shut his eyes. "I'll try not to snore if you want to study."

History of Magic did indeed go very slowly, even while Calla attempted to keep her mind occupied with some Rune translations. She was working on a particular passage which Professor Babbling had said was an early medieval curse and used to be inscribed on stones around tombs to keep away enemies of the deceased. She hadn't gotten very far with it, mainly because her eyes kept dropping and causing the lines to blur together, but she determinedly kept herself awake by the end of class.

"Where are you going?" Daphne asked as she made to follow Harry out the room. "I thought we were doing Charms work this break?"

"I'll tell you later," she said, with a significant glance towards Harry, Ron and Hermione who hovered at the wall. "It's... A thing. See you in Transfiguration, alright?"

She hurried off with the other three towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, where they found Professor Moody just leaving his classroom. "Professor Moody?" Harry called out.

Moody turned, normal eye drooping and magical eye whirring into the back of his head as a gaggle of terrified first years rushed past. "Hello, Potter," Moody growled, jerking his head towards his door. "Come in here."

He stood back to let the four of them hurry into his classroom. "Did you find him?" Harry asked the instant Moody closed the door. "Mr Crouch?"

"No," Moody said grumpily. He stumped over to his desk and sat down, eye rolling about creepily in his head as he pulled out his hip flask for a quick swig.

"Did you use the map?" Harry asked.

Calla rolled her eyes and muttered, "My map."

"Of course," Moody said, taking a swig. Calla wondered exactly what it was he was drinking. "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter." He nodded to Harry, not Calla. "Summoned it from my office to the Forest. He wasn't on there."

So it hadn't even been useful, Calla thought bitterly. She glanced around, wondering where the map was being kept now. "So he did Disapparate?" Ron asked, and Hermione sighed like they had been over this multiple times already.

"How many times do I have to tell you," she said exasperatedly, "you can't apparate or disapparate within the Hogwarts grounds. There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

"You're another one who might want to consider a career as an Auror," Moody told Hermione, who went pink with pleasure.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," Harry said, "the map shows invisible people, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Calla said, "and the map's never wrong either. The only places it can't show are Unplottable areas, where inhabitants can't be tracked, but there are surprisingly few in Hogwarts. Of course, the Chamber of Secrets also isn't on there, but I doubt Crouch knows Parseltongue, And he wouldn't have gotten from the Forest to there without being seen by someone." Though she did make a note to check with Myrtle, just in case.

"Yes," Moody said, his eye jumping uncomfortably onto Calla, "your brother said you knew the map well." Calla flushed a little. "And Dumbledore's been telling me all about your gifts with Divination. You got any ideas about all this?"

"Well," she said, surprised, "I don't really know. I've thought there was something suspicious about all this Crouch stuff for a while, and it's pretty obvious now, but I don't know how he got away unless he used one of the secret passages, and they aren't very widely known at all, plus most of them run from inside the castle. The map extends quite far on the grounds, so he would have had to run pretty fast to get out of the forest, unless he just ran along the treeline, but even so..." She frowned. "He couldn't have done it on foot."

"Unless someone's taken him," Ron said hopefully, as though he would rather like to be praised by Moody, "got him on a broom and - and flown off with him!"

"We can't rule out kidnap," Moody said, but his magical eye was still on Calla. It was very unnerving.

"Harry said..." she started, feeling like she was supposed to say something. "You said Crouch kept going on about Voldemort, and Bertha Jorkins, and - and his son, right?" She looked at Moody, who seemed to be considering her very sternly, his face almost stiff. He didn't seem like he wanted her to say her next words, which was odd, but she could see just the faintest glimmer of worry in his eye. What would Moody have to be nervous about, of all people, as one of the best Aurors? "I... Do you think they might all be connected? Crouch seemed to think so, and... Well, Dumbledore mentioned my visions, didn't he? I've seen things, and I - I think he's coming back. You-Know-Who."

Moody looked at her for a very long moment, face stiff, before he seemed to come back to himself. "You're vigilant," he growled. "Good." She was sure he'd looked scared for a moment, and that scared her, too. He yawned, revealing cracked teeth, and shook his head. "Now, Dumbledore's also told me you four fancy yourselves as detectives, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry's dealing with it now, Dumbledore's informed them. Potters, you two just concentrate on the Third Task."

"But what about Voldemort?" Calla asked, and could have sworn Ron hissed at her. "What do you think about that, Professor? You were one of the main Aurors back in the war, weren't you?"

He seemed to weigh his decisions. "You leave that to the Ministry, Potter, like I said-"

"But the Ministry haven't done anything about Pettigrew," she said pleadingly. "Sorry, Professor, I know you probably, you know, have friends in the Ministry and everyone and I don't mean to offend you, but they haven't exactly been doing well so far, have they?"

"Now you listen here, Potter," Moody said, voice low, "this isn't your concern, and it shouldn't be. You just work on the Tournament. From what Dumbledore's told me, this should be right up your alley." She noted he wasn't looking at her anymore, but at Harry. Her stomach twisted, partly from nerves and partly from frustration. "You've broken your way through stuff like this plenty of times. Got through all those obstacles guarding the Philosopher's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione helped."

Moody grinned. "Well, help them practice for this one, eh? I'll be very surprised if one of them doesn't win, or both." Calla stared at him. Both? They couldn't have both. She narrowed her eyes, but Moody acted like he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. Was there something in the rules she hadn't noticed, that no one had mentioned? "In the meantime... constant vigilance, Potter... Constant vigilance. The two of you should work together, I have a feeling that's when you're best. You'll enter the maze separately, but find each other. Stick together. And you two-" he fixed his eye on Ron and Hermione "-stick close to the two of them, will you? See they get through this. I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same... You can never have too many eyes."

Calla made immediately to go and find Daphne and Padma and tell them everything, but Ron spoke before she could say her goodbye. "What was up in there?" he asked her. "About... You-Know-Who? Why'd you bring that up?"

She frowned at him, then at Harry, and then back at Ron. "Why wouldn't I? They could be connected, and I thought of all people, Moody might have some ideas."

"Well, he didn't seem to," Harry said.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, nodding at Calla. "Of course he does. He just didn't want us to get ourselves involved when you two have the Tournament to focus on."

"No," Calla said, looking at Moody's door with narrowed eyes, "he didn't want us getting in the way. Didn't you see how he deflected my question? There was something funny about it, too, didn't you see? He looked scared when I started talking about Voldemort."

"Can't think why," Ron muttered.

"No, but..." She trailed off, frowning. "I don't know how Crouch could have gotten off the map so fast, without being helped or taken, and who would have?" Then she frowned. "Wouldn't Moody have taken the map before he came to the Forest?"

"I don't know," Harry said irritably, "maybe he was in a rush."

"Yeah, but he's Mad-Eye Moody," Calla pointed out. "Constantly vigilant. And... Ugh." She folded her arms. "I wish I had that map. I want to see it, see how far Crouch needed to go to get out of the grounds. It extends quite far, they explored so much..." She stewed for a while, thinking. "Harry, you don't think you could get the map back for me, could you?"

"What, you think he'll just give it to me?"

"You just gave it to him."

"Not this again," Harry muttered.

"I'm not trying to start an argument," Calla said as calmly as she could. "I just want it back. I want to know how Moody didn't see Crouch. What timeframe are we going for? Ten, fifteen minutes for you to get to the castle, find Dumbledore, get back, Snape to tell Moody and for Moody to come out? The distance between that part of the Forest and the castle couldn't be more than that part of the Forest and the map's boundary, at least from memory." She frowned.

"Moody said we couldn't rule out kidnap."

"Yeah, but who from? Ugh, this is the whole point of the map! He should have checked it immediately! I always kept it on me at all times, until I gave it to you!"

"Again, you're bringing it up again."

"Right, okay, sorry." Calla paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to get her nerves and her emotions back on track. She told herself to calm down. "If I only had it..."

"You didn't even know any of this was happening last night," Harry said.

She glared at him. "Not my fault I'm not all chummy with Krum now."

"I'm not!"

"So do you think Krum did it, too?" Ron asked excitedly.

"No," she said quietly. "No, I don't think he would. I mean, what would he get out of it? He's a bit - I think the term Fleur and Cedric used is stand offish - but he's not a bad guy. No, this... This doesn't make sense." She glanced at Moody's door. Dumbledore trusted him, she reminded herself. And he was a famed Auror, a Dark wizard catcher. He was probably the least likely person to be involved here. And yet he still unnerved her - but maybe that was just fear talking. "I need to talk to Padma and Daphne."

"Are you sure we should be getting more people involved in this?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"It's Padma and Daphne," Calla said, shaking her head. "I tell them basically everything. And they might have some ideas."

"Calla," Harry said quietly, "are you sure you wouldn't be better off working on getting ready for the Third Task? You know, practicing and stuff. You heard what Moody said and I think he's right. We only have a few weeks."

"I can do both," she said. "And I've already been preparing for ages, I just have more of a focus now."

"Oh," Harry said, blinking. "Well, good."

"Besides," she said, "I know you won't let this go either."

Harry looked a little sheepish as he said, "Yeah. You might be right." Satisfied, she nodded. "Promise me you are going to prepare for the Task, you know, properly? It sounds dangerous."

"If you hadn't noticed, Harry, I've been preparing a lot more than you have. Just because it's dangerous and requires spellwork and Defense doesn't mean I can't do it."

"I didn't say that," Harry said, blinking rapidly. "That isn't what I meant at all!"

"I know," she said blithely, unable to stop herself from hearing that anyway. Just because he didn't say it didn't mean he didn't, On some level, believe it. "Anyway, I've got to get to the Ravenclaws. See you later."

She hurried along the corridor, cheeks warm, to tell Padma and Daphne what had just happened.

"About time!" Lisa huffed when she ducked into the classroom they were using. "Where have you been, Potter?"

She hesitated a moment before saying to the room, "Barty Crouch was here last night."

"What, Ministry Barty Crouch?" Michael asked. "I thought he was ill!"

"So did I," she said. "Padma, Daphne, I need to talk to you."

"And the rest of us can't hear?" Lisa asked, frowning.

"No," Calla said, as Padma and Daphne hurried over. "Not yet, anyway. It's important. Come on."

They ducked into a small, soundproofed passageway nearby and the girls crouched down, knees knocking together. Calla told them everything very quickly, aware of how little time they head left of their break. "Merlin," Daphne said when she was done. "And he - he thinks the Dark Lord's coming back?"

"I don't know, but Harry said he sounded really worried. And if it has something to do with the Tournament..." She sighed.

"This is definitely a plot," Padma agreed before Calla even made her suggestion.

"Exactly. Now, there's something I really don't get."

"Of course, the possible resurrection of the Dark Lord and a plot to kill you isn't the most surprising element."

"At this point, no, not really." Calla shook her head. "I don't get how Moody didn't see Crouch on the map. I've seen that thing a million times, and I know the geography of this place. The map stops all the way past the end of the lake, way past it. And trying to go through the Forbidden Forest would just be a stupid way to run. From the sounds of it, Crouch was in no state to run that way, and otherwise wouldn't have been able to get out before Moody was told by Snape. Even if he didn't check the map until later - which doesn't make sense - how much later? And even if Crouch did get away, he clearly wanted to see Dumbledore and get to the castle, so someone must have gotten him out, but I can't figure out who. I mean, who would be in the grounds that night? I - I don't know, Moody always struck me as the sort of person who would keep an eye on that map as much as possible."

"You might be overthinking this a little bit," Padma said, but Daphne shook her head.

"I think she's right. From what I've been told of Moody, and what we've seen, he is paranoid. You don't think someone's gotten to him, do you?"

"Gotten to him?" Padma laughed. "How? I can't see him letting his guard down enough for that."

"I can't see him not keeping the map on him at all times," Calla countered, then shook her head. "Sorry, was that snappy? I think I'm getting on Harry's nerves a bit."

"Why, what's he done?"

"Nothing," she said. "He just... I think he thinks I'm mad at him and I guess I am a bit but I don't want to have an argument and then we keep almost havin arguments which is somehow actually worse? And I don't want to have an argument at all."

"All siblings have arguments," Daphne said. "I cut part of Astoria's hair off once, she was furious. So was Mum. And Dad. And everyone, actually."

"Well, I'm not going to cut Harry's hair off," Calla said, "but I still don't like this. Plus, he said I should focus on the Third Task instead of getting involved."

"Well, he's probably right," Daphne said.

"Yeah, but you didn't hear how he said it, Daphne. Like, oh, it's dangerous, you need to work to protect yourself, because you can't do it otherwise, because I'm rubbish at magic and he knows it and he seems to think I don't know it and need, I don't know..." She made a noise of annoyance and Padma gave her a sympathetic smile. "He doesn't seem to realise how much I've been preparing, that I am actually trying to be relatively on top of things. He just doesn't get it."

"Boys," Padma said, "they don't get anything, do they?" She rubbed Calla's shoulder gently as the bell rang for Transfiguration. "Come on, you. We'll figure this thing out, one way or another. But he is kind of right; if someone wants you to die in this Tournament, we are not letting that happen." She took Calla's hand and hauled her to her feet. "Let's go."

Their tournament preparations continued with fervour once Calla explained her task, all of the Ravenclaws working quite wonderfully together. They bickered all the time, of course, and everyone had a different view and a different approach to learning and practising - Sue, Terry and Anthony all took the view that theory was most important, and Daphne and Lisa were for once united in putting down that idea - but they also all stuck together, and they all helped her, and Calla couldn't help but be immensely grateful to them all. And the bonus was that her visions were growing a little less painful. She was starting to manage them more and to make sense of them. The Triwizard Cup kept appearing, though more often than not it was Harry who was beside it, not her. She still hoped it was a good sign.

On Moody's advice the pair of them were working together too. He was right; they had always been at their strongest when they were united, and though they didn't cease arguing and sniping at one another, it felt good to be on the same team as her brother again.

By the next Monday in Divination, Calla was actually starting to feel more confident not only in her Tournament preparations but also in her ability to pass the exams if she had been required to take them. It turned out - though Calla wouldn't say this to Daphne - that theory was actually becoming very helpful for her learning, and she knew already that her grasp of theory and her written performance had always been her strongest point in class. Though usually she would be focusing on magic in her spare class time - whether for the Tournament, general study, or still working on getting her Patronus to take an actual form - Calla had planned to use that Divination lesson to focus on 'reaching out' to her visions as Dumbledore had told her to. She was leaning back in her chair, hearing Trelawney talk about the position of Mars. Conflict, she thought idly, and scribbled something on parchment that might have resembled the word, before allowing her mind to go blank. Though thoughts pressed at the edge of her mind, threatening to intrude, she found that it was easier to make her mental walls flexible rather than simply durable, allow them to bend and catch thoughts instead of trying to repel them by thought. She felt for a moment rather like she was floating, the darkness behind her eyes clearing and lightening just a shade, as she felt her way outwards toward the edge of her mind.

She was in a graveyard she had seen many times before, in the darkness. She still couldn't move, but she could make out a feeble figure trapped against a large headstone, pale and worn and looking altogether on the brink of death. The figure wore her face. Her gut turned and there was a flash of green light, a high and chilling laugh, and her brother fell to the floor before her. He was quite still on the ground, blood clotting on his arm, and a cold voice whispered in her ear, causing a chill to wrap around her chest. "This is mine now."

There was a crash and she startled, eyes flying open. Harry had fallen off of his chair and he was clutching his scar, looking pained. "Harry!" she cried in fright, hurrying over as Trelawney flapped about. "What happened?"

"I dunno," Ron said, looking worried and pale, as Harry writhed on the floor, rolling about as though in agony. Calla grabbed him by the shoulder, heart hammering in terror as she tried to stop him before he hurt himself.

"Harry!" she yelled, panic rising in her chest. He had to have seen something, from the way he was holding his head. But he'd never reacted this badly before. "Harry!"

Her brother's eyes shot open and Calla sagged with relief. "Are you okay?" she breathed shakily, and though he nodded he was awfully pale and Calla just knew he was spooked by something.

"What is it, Potter?" Trelawney asked. She looked almost excited as she stared at Harry. "A premonition?" She looked between him and Calla. "A vision?"

"Nothing," Harry lied, trying to get up. Calla gave him a hand and shot him a hard look of, 'You had better tell me what'.

"You were clutching your scar!" Trelawney said excitedly. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come, Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

"I think I have to go to the Hospital Wing," Harry said, shaking his head. He glanced at Calla. "I've got a headache."

"I'll take him," Calla said at once and he gave her a quietly exasperated look but he didn't protest.

"You were clearly stimulated by the clairvoyant vibrations!" Trelawney declared, and Calla wished she would stop because her brother looked like that was the last thing he wanted to hear. "If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you ever have!"

"The only thing I want to see is a headache cure," Harry said sharply, and got up next to Calla. The rest of the class backed away, and Calla surveyed them all with scrutiny. Even Padma was looking at Harry apprehensively, like she was worried what he might do next.

"See you later," Harry muttered to Ron, as the two twins picked up their respective bags and hurried down the ladder out of Trelawney's classroom.

"I'm not going to the Hospital Wing," he told Calla once they'd gotten down the ladder.

"You look really pale-"

"I need to speak to Dumbledore. That's what Remus told me to do if my scar was bothering me, and it felt like my head was going to explode, so I think that qualifies."

"Okay, that's fair." He smiled weakly at her. "What did you see, Harry?"

"It... It was weird." She nodded. Visions - or whatever Harry was having - were often weird. And annoying. "Voldemort was there, he was accusing Wormtail of having made... a blunder. But there was this owl, I was on the owl, or I was it, I don't know, but the blunder had been fixed and someone was dead. So Wormtail didn't get fed to the snake."

Calla's heart stopped and then raced, as did her mind. "Who's dead?"

"I don't know."

"Crouch?"

"I don't know." She frowned, trying to think. There wasn't anything else coming to mind for her. "I think I was going to be fed to the snake instead."

Calla shivered. "Don't say that, Harry." After a moment she said, "I had a vision too. I kind of made myself have it."

Harry stared at her. "How?"

"Did what Dumbledore told me, reached out to it... We were in this graveyard, I think. I didn't see him, but I think he was there, and so were we." She shuddered, wishing she hadn't brought it up; saying it aloud and to Harry scared her even more. "Look, there's the gargoyle. Cockroach clusters," Calla said to the gargoyle, which sprang aside instantly, the stone wall moving behind it. "Come on."

She grabbed Harry by the wrist and hurried up the stairs, hoping that Dumbledore would be able to help. She could tell by Harry's face that he was worried, really worried. They stopped just before the door; Calla could hear voices, speaking urgently, and she placed a halting hand on her brother's arm.

"I'm afraid I just don't see the connection, Dumbledore, don't see it at all!" That was Cornelius Fudge's voice, Calla realised. She very much doubted that this was a conversation they were supposed to overhear. "Ludo says Bertha's perfectly capable of getting lost! I agree we would have expected to have found her before now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all! And to suggest it is linked with the disappearance of Barty Crouch..."

"And what do you think happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" Moody's voice growled. Calla's stomach plummeted; his eye cold spot them easily through this door, and part of her thought they should move down, but she also really wanted to hear what they said. She sent Harry an urgent look, but he just shrugged, which was no help at all.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fudge, "either Barty's finally cracked after all of these years - more than likely, I'm sure you agree, given his personal history - and wandered off somewhere."

"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is what you mean, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, quite calmly.

"Or else - well..." Fudge sounded rather embarrassed. "I will reserve judgement until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage. Dumbledore, do you know what that woman is?"

Calla knew exactly who they were alluding to, and she felt a great urge to roll her eyes. "I consider her to be a very able Headmistress - and an excellent dancer."

"Dumbledore, come!" Fudge said angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favour because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out so harmless - if, indeed, you consider Hagrid to be harmless, given the monster fixation he's got!"

"I no more suspect Madam Maxime than Hagrid," Dumbledore said quietly. "I think it is you who may be prejudiced."

"Can we wrap up this discussion?" Moody asked in a growl.

"Yes, yes," Fudge said, "let's go into the grounds then."

"No, it's not that," said Moody impatiently, "it's just that the Potters want a word with you, Dumbledore. They're outside the door."

Calla withheld a swear as the door sprung open of its own accord and she and Harry peered inside, seeing Dumbledore, Fudge and Moody all assembled there. She felt heat rise, flaming, to her cheeks. "Hello, Potters," Moody said. "Come in, then."

It was extremely embarrassing walking in there, since Calla was sure all of the adults knew they had been eavesdropping. But Fudge looked quite jovial as he hurried over. "Harry! How are you?"

"Fine," Harry lied, though Calla gave Dumbledore a significant look. He nodded only slightly.

"We were just talking about the night Mr Crouch was found," Fudge was saying. "It was you who found him wasn't it?" He looked at Calla. "Were you-"

"I didn't see anything," she told him. "I went back to the castle with Cedric. But I didn't see Madam Maxime leave the Beauxbatons carriage, and I know Fleur went to talk to her right away."

"And I didn't see Madam Maxime anywhere, either," Harry added. "And she'd be quite difficult to miss, wouldn't she?"

"Yes, well..." Now it was Fudge's turn to look embarrassed. "We're about to go for a walk in the grounds, Harry, Calla, if you'll excuse us. Perhaps you could go back to your classes."

"We wanted to talk to you, Professor," Harry said quickly to Dumbledore, who was already nodding.

"Wait here for me," he said swiftly, "our examination of the grounds will not take long."

The three of them left in silence, but for Moody's leg clunking on the floor. Fawkes the phoenix squawked and flew over to land on Calla's shoulder. She smiled gently as she stroked his warm feathers. "Hello, sweetheart," she said gently, and he crooned at her. "You're looking gorgeous."

Harry was looking around with curious eyes, and Calla remembered he wasn't nearly as familiar with this office as she was. "He is lovely, isn't he?" Harry said quietly, looking at Fawkes, who preened.

"Very." She stroked Fawkes absently for another moment or so before Harry stood up, eyes going to a large stone basin in a glass cabinet by Dumbledore's wall.

"Do you know what this is?" Harry asked her, frowning.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's not been there that long, but Dumbledore's never mentioned it."

"It's got some sort of runes on it."

Calla frowned, a little curious now, and Fawkes fluttered away as she stood up, coming to stand behind her brother and peer into the cabinet. "Well, I'm not sure what they all mean," she told Harry, "that's memory, that's probably gift but it's a bit wonky... I don't know. They look pretty old." She shrugged. "I doubt he meant to leave the cabinet open."

"Yeah."

She frowned at Harry, knowing what he was thinking. "Come on and sit down."

"Yeah..." Harry stuck his hand into the basin of silvery light and Calla resisted the urge to tut at him.

"Yeah, Harry," she muttered, "just stick your hand in random silver mist."

And then he did something else. Whether intentionally or not, he leaned over and stuck his face in the basin and Calla rolled her eyes so far she was surprised she couldn't pull a Moody and see out the back of her head. "You're ridiculous."

He didn't reply. Calla sat there nervously for a few moments, not knowing what to do - she had never seen one of these things before. She listened out for Dumbledore coming up the stairs, but he appeared to be soundless, and she didn't have the time to pull Harry away from the Pensieve as Dumbledore came in, staring. "I did try to stop him," she said meekly, flushing.

"He is curious," Dumbledore said. "I cannot blame him for that." He picked the basin up to place it on his desk, gesturing for Harry to sit down in the chair beside Calla.

Despite how often Calla had been here, she could not recall ever being near this basin. "What is it?" Harry asked, voice rather shaky.

"It is called a Pensieve," Dumbledore told him. "I often find I have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind. I am sure you know the feeling." He nodded to Calla, who smiled tersely. "At such time, I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links in this form." Calla wondered why he had never shown her this before; it sounded like the sort of thing that would be useful for Occlumeny and for dealing with her visions.

"You mean..." Harry looked a combination of confused and horrified. "That stuff's your thoughts?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "let me show you."

Taking his wand from his pocket, Dumbledore placed its tip against his hair, and pulled it away - and with it, a silvery, twisting strand of what Calla could only assume was his memories. It was a rather surreal idea that his memory could just be pulled out like that. He dropped the silver strand into the basin, and then swirled it around so it gained a silver sheen, before forming Snape's face in the strange depths. Frowning, Calla leaned forward, as Snape spoke out, "It's coming back... Karkaroff's too... stronger and clearer than ever."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," said Dumbledore, "but never mind." He looked between Calla and Harry over his spectacles. "I was using the Pensieve when Mr Fudge arrived for our meeting, and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Curiosity is not a sin," Dumbledore said kindly, shaking his head. "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity... yes, indeed..."

With a slight frown, Dumbledore poked at the basin, causing it to swirl again and reform into the figure of a teenage girl. Her voice echoed as she said, "He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday..."

"But why, Bertha," Dumbledore said sadly, eyes now turned towards the silent figure, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

"Bertha?" Harry whispered, as it clicked in Calla's mind. "Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes." Dumbledore poked his thoughts once more and they faded back to silver. "That was Bertha as I remember her at school." There was something sad in his eyes that made him appear older. It occurred to Calla that, truly, he was already old. "So," Dumbledore said in his quiet voice, "Before it got lost in my thoughts, the two of you wished to tell me something?"

"Er, yes." Harry looked to Calla nervously, as though prompting her to speak.

"We were just in Divination," she said quietly.

"I fell asleep," Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore merely nodded. "And?"

"Well, I had a dream," Harry told him. "About Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail - you know who Wormtail-"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "continue."

"He - Voldemort - got a letter from an owl. He said something like Wormtail's blunder had been repaired? Someone was dead. Then he said Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside the char. He said he'd be feeding me to it instead. Then he did the Cruciatus on Wormtail and my - my scar hurt. It woke me up, it hurt so badly." He paused, but Dumbledore said nothing. "That's all."

"I see."

"I thought it sounded like a vision," Calla said, "but Harry thinks it happened presently, not in the future."

"Trelawney said I responded to the clairvoyant vibrations," Harry said, "but I don't think... I mean, I was already asleep so it's not like it was what made me pass out."

"And you don't think these clairvoyant vibrations had anything to do with it?" Dumbledore asked lightly.

"Er, no, Professor," Harry said. "I reckon if that was the case I'd have been able to actually see something more than a pile of leaves in a teacup." Calla stifled a smile. "I think it might've been something to do with my scar."

"I see. Has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you over the Summer?"

"No, I - how did you know-"

"Sirius and Remus both have been in correspondence," Dumbledore told him. He stood up, pacing the office as though he had rather forgotten their presence, though now and then he would add another thought to his Pensieve, until it turned into a simple blur of colours and barely defined shapes.

"Professor," Calla said quietly. "What is it?"

He stopped, turning to look between the twins, and sat down again. "My apologies."

"Do you..." Harry said. "D'you know why my scar's hurting me?"

"I have a theory," Dumbledore admitted slowly, "that your scar pains you when Voldemort is nearby, or when he is feeling a particularly strong emotion."

"But why?"

"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed. That is no ordinary scar."

"So you think the dream really did happen?"

"It is possible," Dumbledore said. "I would say, probably. Harry, did you see Voldemort?"

"No," Harry said, "just the back of his chair." Calla frowned at that. Of course, it could mean nothing, but it was curious. "But there wouldn't be anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body. But then how would he be holding a wand?"

"How indeed," Dumbledore mused. "How indeed..."

Calla sank into thought. Her own scar ached a little, though she thought perhaps that was just her own imagination. If Harry was just now displaying a Seer's gift, it wasn't totally ridiculous - Seeing could often be a hereditary talent so for both of them to have the ability wasn't so unlikely - but it seemed to work in a different way than her visions did, just as they'd discussed during the Summer. There was a part of her that wanted to say the idea of Harry now being able to See was ridiculous, because she was the Seer of the family, but there was something strange going on.

"Professor," Harry said quietly after a few long moments of silence, "do you think he's getting stronger?"

"Voldemort?" The idea terrified Calla, but it was one she'd had before. Dumbledore fixed them both with his piercing blue gaze. "Once again, Harry, I can only give you my suspicions."

He sighed, the words seemed to with on him before he spoke. "The years of Voldemort's ascent to power were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace where Voldemort was known to be last. Mr Crouch too has disappeared within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which I regret to say many at the Ministry are not taking seriously, for it concerns a Muggle by the name of Frank Bryce. He lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspaper, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

Calla frowned. "You think Voldemort might have been there?" Dumbledore blinked, seemingly surprised. "In that village?" She remembered a house falling to disrepair, a snake in the kitchen, and her stomach swam. Nausea rolled over her.

"I think he may have been at some point," he said slowly. Calla wasn't sure that was the whole story. "But you remember Voldemort has no care for his Muggle parentage." She nodded, though the issue still bothered her. "But I do believe these disappearances are all linked. Unfortunately, as you heard, the Ministry disagrees."

"The Ministry disagrees with anything that makes them look bad," Calla muttered.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "A valid point."

"Do Remus and Sirius know what you're thinking? You know they've been trying to track down Pettigrew and they've had a lot of theories, but they haven't found him."

"I can only speculate," he said, which Calla took as a no. "And I feel Voldemort will only be seen when he wishes to be seen."

"Well then we have to force him to be revealed," Calla said. "Both of them."

"That is easier said than done," Dumbledore said. His eyes looked tired and sorrowful as they moved between the two of them. "And I fear that with the denial of the Ministry, there is little we can do. Time..." He sighed. "It will play out as it must."

Silence fell after that. Dumbledore hadn't outright dismissed her, and yet Calla felt more downhearted than she had before. It didn't feel like he was properly listening. It will play out as it must. It almost sounded like Dumbledore was resigned to the idea of Voldemort returning. Like it was inevitable to him. Like he was going to let it happen.

"Professor," Harry began again after a moment, "that court thing in the Pensieve... Mr Crouch's son... Sirius mentioned him."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am not surprised. Did Sirius mention the nature of his crime?"

"We already knew," Harry admitted quietly, "about Neville's parents. Remus told us, when he was telling us about Sirius and our parents and everything last year, but he made us promise not to repeat it to anyone else."

"Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known," Dumbledore said. "They came just as everyone thought they were finally safe. The Ministry was under great stress to find those who were guilty, but given their condition, the Longbottoms' evidence was none too reliable."

"So Mr Crouch's son might have been innocent?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not know."

They paused in the quiet for another short moment before Harry said, "Mr Bagman..."

"...has never been accused of any Dark activity since."

"Right. And, er-"

"No more has Professor Snape."

Harry nodded, though Calla could tell he wanted to believe the opposite. "What made you believe he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, sir?"

"That is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

Dumbledore's tone suggested finality, but Calla had one last thing to ask. "Professor," she started slowly, "we spoke to Professor Moody about what happened to Mr Crouch."

He nodded. "I imagine you would have many questions."

"Yes... I just thought, he had the map." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "But he didn't have it on him... When he went to find Crouch? So he couldn't find him and it just... he didn't really use it..."

"What is it you are trying to say, Calla?"

"Just... I don't really know, Professor. It just struck me as odd, is all."

He considered her for a long moment. "I understand you are concerned. But I can assure you that Professor Moody has my utmost confidence, in both his character and his capability."

She sensed that was the final dismissal. Nodding, she stood up with Harry and crossed to the door, lost in her thoughts. She and Professor Dumbledore hadn't discussed the matter of Voldemort much, often dancing around it, but she was sure he knew or at least thought more than he was letting on to either her or Harry. Maybe that was right - they were only children - but she figured of anyone, they were the ones who had to know what was going on.

But whatever Dumbledore would or wouldn't say, Calla knew she had to be careful and she had to prepare herself for the worst. That meant practice and discipline and being good at the very things she always struggled with. She had to be able to defend herself and hold her own. She refused to fail.