Book 1: Astoria Greengrass and the Muggle-Born Slytherin

Song rec: "Stars" by Hum

Notes: Rhiannon finds out that not only is Voldemort alive, but he sent someone to her school that she had grown quite fond of. Astoria and Rhiannon are seeing the war unfold from a completely different angle than Harry and his friends.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." - Anonymous

It had become such a habit to go to the D.A.D.A. classroom at the end of the school day that Rhiannon found herself meandering toward there even after Dumbledore's announcement that morning. The whole corridor was dark and free of students, and the noise of the breezes coming in from the cracks in the ancient stone walls made Rhiannon edgy. As she made her way into the room, she saw something that made her feel worse. There were two piles.

One had the Foe-Glass, now opaque with smoke and cracked severely in the left-hand corner; a few shards of it lay on the floor. There were many books on this side, piles aligned carefully and bound together with string. A picture frame lay face down on top of a double pile of well-worn cassette tapes. There was a cloth bag left untied and pushed down at the top that Rhiannon examined. It contained a comb, stubby concert tickets, and a gold ring.

The other mixture of items had a huge trunk. Sitting atop it was a roll of parchment. It looked like an inventorial list. Rhiannon started feeling queasy. There was a rolling clothes rack holding up many garments with too thick of fabric for the season. It had a familiar, tattered trench coat, hollow of its owner. A smaller stack of books, a larger heap of parchment rolls, a Sneakoscope, a broomstick, and several groups of what seemed to be old television antennae were in this pile. Three unmatched right-footed shoes lay beneath the clothes rack.

How badly was Moody hurt…?

Rhiannon jumped when she saw a witch in black robes come out of the office on the other side of the room and quickly take vicious aim with a long wand.

"Leave me al— Oh, Heavens!" she gasped, lowering the wand. "I'm so sorry, Rhiannon, so sorry — I did not know it was you, so sorry…"

It was Professor Sinistra. Rhiannon was quite tempted to ask her who the unlucky guest might have been, but she changed her mind. Sinistra lurched toward Rhiannon with a heavy basket in her arm, leaving an intermittent trail of dried mud on the floor as it crumbled off her boots. With great purpose, Sinistra began to divide the basket's contents between the two piles of paraphernalia. A large belt went to the right, gold cuff links to the left, a few bottles of ink revealers to the right, a folded telescope to the left. An old hat to the right, an even older hat to the right, a cheap pocket watch to the right, an expensive pocket watch and three neckties to the left, and a small, black book right into Professor Sinistra's robe pocket. The professor then drifted back into the office and into the teacher's quarters as though she had forgotten Rhiannon was there. Rhiannon drew near the ominous inventory list and discovered that it only included items in the right pile. She also saw something on the desk separated from the piles: a neatly arranged girls' uniform and a familiar-looking pink water bottle. She didn't know what to make of anything.

Cautiously, Rhiannon poked her head into the office. There was a small stone staircase that went up to Moody's room. One by one, personal items floated out of the room and back to the piles in the classroom. Rhiannon stepped out of the way of a pair of greyed old-man socks.

"Depulso!" Sinistra screamed.

All at once, the image of a silvery face flung past Rhiannon. There was a loud crack as the object hit the stone wall out in the classroom and fractured into four pieces. It was a mask, elaborately engraved. Professor Sinistra again looked like she was not expecting Rhiannon to be right there. She came down the stair, took one more look at the office, and walked out. Rhiannon followed. Sinistra stood between the piles of belongings, staring at nothing in particular.

"Professor?"

Sinistra was in a daze. She drifted to the cage with the Doppelvanga, which started calling out in low wails. She stared at the bird for a moment, shook her head rapidly in disorientation, and brought it to the left pile. She cooed at the bird until the wail changed to mimic coos.

"Professor Sinistra?" Rhiannon asked more nervously. "Erm, Professor Dumbledore said… er, is Professor Moody in the Hospital Wing?"

"Professor Moody…"

Sinistra's eyes stared vacantly from under her pointed hat. Rhiannon wasn't sure if she wanted an answer then; her palms were clammy and her optimism was failing.

"Yes, he is in, er, the Hospital Wing."

"Er… how is he?"

"Moody will recover well."

"Ahh!"

Rhiannon had a large weight lifted from the top of her head. She turned to start the journey toward the hospital to wish him well.

"Goodness, Rhiannon, don't go!" Sinistra cried out desperately and suddenly, shocking Rhiannon. "The man does not know who you are!"

"Wh—?"

Professor Sinistra wrapped a weak arm round Rhiannon's shoulder and led her to a seat.

"What's wrong?" Rhiannon demanded as Sinistra shut the classroom door with the wave of her wand. "What's happened to him?"

Sinistra struggled, bringing a hand to her face to wipe off tears that were all too ready to form. This little show of hers wasn't answering the question, but Rhiannon used all of her will to hold back from shouting at the professor out of grief.

"W-Was he hit with a Memory Charm?" Rhiannon tried to ask steadily.

"No, no… oh, Rhiannon, do you, would you happen to know what a Polyjuice Potion is? Do you know what that is, dear?"

Rhiannon recollected that Hestia had spoken about the potion once in passing when she was researching Fluxweed. The Polyjuice Potion was used to transform the drinker into someone else for a period of time.

"Yeah," Rhiannon winced, feeling the need to lie down to take the news that was coming to her.

"Rhiannon, you mustn't tell anyone of this, or they'll bring you into court," said the professor grimly. "The press can't find out — the Ministry's got control of everything. I'll lose my job. They're trying to cover this up…"

"I won't tell anybody," Rhiannon promised.

"You deserve to know, you really do," Sinistra muttered to herself.

Professor Sinistra was usually such a quiet woman, and Rhiannon felt uncomfortable standing in the storm of her emotion. Professor Sinistra's entire demeanour had changed from the day Rhiannon took her Astronomy exam without incident.

"There was — I mean to say that — Alastor Moody never taught here, you see, Rhiannon? He was — he —" it seemed that Sinistra's teeth were chopping her sentences as they tried to leave her mouth. "Someone, he, at the beginning of the year, he took a Polyjuice Potion to infiltrate Hogwarts, to pose as Alastor Moody."

Rhiannon felt a few "what's" escape her throat before consciously demanding a "Why?" Those tears she hated were coming back; she was so upset. Her conception — everyone's conception — of Professor Moody was false. Rhiannon saw Moody, she heard Moody, she talked about her blasted parents with Moody! Who was she speaking to? Who was it that now knew Rhiannon better than her own friends? She faltered severely and let herself cry. Professor Sinistra buried her head in her hands.

"'Why,' you ask?" she said quietly. "Why did he do it?"

Rhiannon watched as Professor Sinistra totally lost her poise. She spent several moments shaking, in that hunched position, as if trying to work the situation into words.

"Because Voldemort wanted him to," she said tightly.

Rhiannon first felt uncomfortable at the mention of the Dark wizard's name, but the feeling was replaced with the highest terror she had felt since she was almost killed by the basilisk.

"You mea— there was a Death Eater? In the castle? All year? You mean I was talking with a Death Eater all this time‽"

Rhiannon's mind was turning so quickly that it felt like her words were coming faster than her thoughts… she started shouting at the crumbling Professor Sinistra.

"You mean — no, I'm, I'm a Muggle-born, no — there's a Death Eater out to kill me‽ A disguised Death Eater in the castle who could have killed me any old day, because… because I'm just walking right up to him and — and talking about Quidditch! God Almighty, how did this happen‽"

"Rhiannon, stop," Sinistra begged.

"What is this bloody school? Just the place we all bring in things to — to kill Rhiannon Clarke‽"

"Rhiannon, please stop!"

"Where's the Death Eater? WHERE IS HE‽"

Sinistra was bawling so profoundly… Sinistra never would act this way… Sinistra would not know where to lead Rhiannon to her seat in the D.A.D.A. classroom… No, could it be?

"You! You're the Death Eater, with, with yet another Polyjuice potion! You're not Sinistra!"

Rhiannon took out her wand, about to Stun the witch in front of her, but the other managed to Disarm Rhiannon without even using a wand and followed with a Silencing Charm. The feeling of imminent death was one that Rhiannon had become familiar with, but it was the worst feeling each and every time.

"He's gone, Rhiannon. He's all gone."

Sinistra then wilted, sinking into a child-sized desk. Rhiannon could not speak no matter how much force she used in her throat. Trying to come to her senses, Rhiannon retrieved her wand although she knew she was poor with nonverbal magic. Yet Sinistra did not bother to pick hers up; apparently, she had trained in wandless and nonverbal magic. Perhaps Rhiannon had had an unreasonable fit, but Sinistra had never looked so frightening before the moment she cast those spells…

"See, Rhiannon, there are his things," Sinistra waved her hand toward the left pile, then to the right, "and there are Moody's, see? All sorted out, all done…"

Rhiannon glanced at the broken mask on the floor. Her reasoning was returning; that was the Death Eater's mask. The real Moody was in the hospital recovering from being attacked, or held captive, or put to sleep, or whatever had happened. Rhiannon sat back down in her seat, considering things once more. How many of Rhiannon's conversations with the Death Eater were fake, just an impression of Alastor Moody? How many heart-to-hearts had she had with a Death Eater? Was it really true that if she walked into the Hospital Wing, Moody would not have the slightest idea of who she was? And yet there was some Death Eater who could probably write an essay about Rhiannon if he listened to anything she said…

Rhiannon wanted to apologise to Professor Sinistra but still lacked her voice.

"Shall I tell you what has happened?" Sinistra asked softly. "As I've said, it's clear you… it's clear, well, you deserve to know."

Rhiannon nodded assent. Very slowly, very agonisingly, Professor Sinistra described:–

"In August, there, he, the Death Eater, Jo—, erm, Bartemius Crouch… of course, you know of Bartemius Crouch Senior. He was there at the beginning of the year. But yes… so this is his son, Bartemius Crouch Junior, who became one of… who became one of those in 1980. And he got thrown into Azkaban by his own father in 1981 for a life sentence. They said that he partook in t-t— no, well, but… so he appeared to have died in prison in 1982, but he revealed he was alive just — just this Saturday — clearly… for he was there, wasn't he? He was right here alive. He was alive all these years."

Rhiannon was trying desperately to follow the professor's account, but it was as though the woman did not believe what had happened herself and was making it rather confusing.

"He, Barty, faked his death because his mother wanted him out of there, of Azkaban, and as she was in critical condition anyway, Mrs Crouch and he switched appearances under the Polyjuice potion. And then J— Barty. Barty escaped, and Mrs Crouch died shortly thereafter.

"But the old man, you know, who had always manipulated and abused him, was afraid to have a convicted Death Eater in his house, of course… so he put him under the Imperius Curse… I suppose that lasted a whole, a whole twelve years, of that. A whole twelve years of rotting his mind. And so the old man had him in the house, smothered under an Invisibility Cloak — oh, that's a sheet of fabric that makes one invisible, you see — and, and, well, eventually, Barty Jr could hear again. Barty started fighting off the Imperius Curse, but he acted quite right so the old man would let him have the Sunday dinner, and then their house-elf thought it'd be good to have him attend the Quidditch World Cup, which he'd, which he dreadfully wanted to see for years. It was j-just this August.

"But he was still Imperiused the whole time, and sort of, sort of magically bound to the little elf, but there was a riot of Death Eaters and, by chance, he had the magic Stunned out of him and he, he got away and decided to go. But he went right to V—, that Voldemort… like there was no second thought… like he thought that was his only option… and Voldemort wanted him to come to Hogwarts to, oh—"

Sinistra covered her eyes with her hands and started to cry more. Her concealing hand was hardly necessary with that shady old hat over her face.

"I mean, I swear to you, it had nothing to do with you, Miss Clarke. I think, I think Professor Dumbledore is going to make some statement at the End-of-Term feast, see…"

"The Death Eater came to kill Cedric Diggory, didn't he?" Rhiannon asked, feeling her voice again. "What'd Cedric do? How'd You-Know-Who know about some regular school student?"

"Voldemort is alive, and he killed Cedric," Sinistra wept. "Cedric didn't do anything at all. Just ruthless murder, it was… that wasn't part of the plan. It was Harry. It was Harry Potter. Voldemort had this ridiculous, this elaborate plan to get Harry. And he was having... he was having Barty do it. Like it was amusing, how elaborate it was…"

"And," Sinistra continued, "and in order to infiltrate Hogwarts to get Harry to Voldemort, Barty put Alastor Moody under the, it, the Imperius Curse, of course… so, he made the Polyjuice Potion and, and here he was — right in Hogwarts he was — right here always drinking that foul-smelling stuff. He was right here."

"My own father abandoned me… Can't hurt me from the grave, can he?" the voice in disguise had said.

Rhiannon's vivid memories of her detentions made her feel the need to interrupt the story.

"So, then, that was actually Crouch telling me about his father?" Rhiannon asked drearily upon reflection.

"Oh, Rhiannon, please," Sinistra waved her hand.

"You could use what you get from that album of yours to buy a broom," a Death Eater — a Death Eater — had advised Rhiannon jovially.

"Wait, no it was him really talking to me! And… it was Crouch talking to me about Quidditch and… music and such? That part wasn't part of the act? That's—"

Rhiannon didn't know what that was. She was taking in so much confusing information without being ready for it.

"That's not an impersonation at all, no," Sinistra snivelled. "That's him, he was right here."

To stay out of trouble, the Doppelvanga uses mimicry.

The Death Eater was right under everyone's noses all along… it was making Rhiannon faint.

The problem is that when the bird is exposed to its own kind, its true cry can be heard.

Rhiannon cried into the collar of her robes. How pathetic she felt. The whole time, the whole entire time, she had been chummy with a member of an organisation that wanted to wipe out Muggle-borns. And yet…

Constant vigilance, Rhiannon, you hear?

And yet at the same time, her own ignorance helped her escape from the hell of her school and home life in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom yet again.

"Why didn't he just hand me over to You-Know-Who?" was the question burning Rhiannon's brain.

Sinistra looked more appalled than Rhiannon thought she ought to have.

"Was it so he wouldn't blow his cover too soon?" Rhiannon asked determinedly.

The professor was even more astonished at the second question. She leaned forward in the desk until it creaked.

"Because, Rhiannon," Sinistra said, "you were an excuse for him to be himself again after twelve years of being his father's puppet and one year of being Alastor Moody. You knew neither Barty Crouch Jr nor Alastor Moody, so you would not be able to tell if something was wrong. You weren't so much a student in detention then as much as you were someone stopping in to talk, and that talking was his only chance to be himself under Voldemort's thumb. Barty was completely deluded — he thought he would be so revered by Voldemort that he could simply wave a finger and spare you. He was under many severe delusions of, of that sort… Rhiannon, he was very ill. He was so lost."

Sinistra said this so surely that Rhiannon's following question was about to be, "How do you know?" But Sinistra spoke first.

"It started with you crying about your father in class, didn't it?"

"I — I guess, yeah. I don't know, Professor. I feel pathetic."

"Rhiannon, I understand what you're asking. You talked about a lot with him. It wasn't part of his Moody act. It wasn't reported to Voldemort. Take that to mean what you will. You're not pathetic for wanting to know."

"I mean, he was a Death Eater! It's not like I'm relieved we had these talks… I guess I just didn't want it to be fake… I guess I… I heard him talk about his dad, I guess."

Rhiannon had never felt so ill at ease and emotionally moved at the same time.

"Rhiannon, you weren't in any danger from Barty himself — you were in danger of what he was choosing to do. And he chose Voldemort over everything else. It was praise-seeking, reckless, and desperate. He did not know what the Death Eaters were going to do, if they were going to raid the grounds on the night of the Third Task or not. He placed you under the Imperius Curse to make you splash pumpkin juice on Draco Malfoy because he knew Severus would take that privilege of going to the Task away from you. Rhiannon, really, he made no sense. He was always ten steps ahead and couldn't ever see what was right in front of him," Sinistra wept.

"Imperius Curse? To, wait, to keep me… safe? What? How do you know all of this? Er, how do you know any of this?" Rhiannon finally blurted.

Sinistra pursed her lips, apparently formulating her words.

"He told me everything when he was captured."

"You captured him?"

"No, Rhiannon, the headmaster did. They gave him Veritaserum."

"That's when he told you everything?"

"Er, yes," Sinistra said, rubbing her face.

"Oh…" Rhiannon said. "So he's back in Azkaban, then?"

Time crawled as the professor stared out of the windows in silence and watched the hanging, still clouds. Rhiannon was preparing to repeat her question.

"Fudge, he…" Sinistra whispered.

"Fudge arrested him?"

Sinistra wrung her shaking hands and still did not move her eyes from the window.

"Fudge brought a dementor into," Sinistra made a wild wave toward the office, "well, right in there, and—"

Rhiannon had a feeling that kept sinking further and further in a pool of dread at the sheer mention of dementors.

"It ate his soul," Sinistra murmured, almost inaudibly.

Rhiannon did not believe it at first. If Crouch really was insane, wouldn't he have been sent to a mental ward? If he wasn't, he'd be back in Azkaban. Right? Even the sound of Sinistra's sentence did not compute in Rhiannon's mind.

"His body's been moved back to Azkaban, but… he's all gone."

Rhiannon and Professor Sinistra were both very quiet for such a long time that Rhiannon thought herself to be growing old. The room became stuffy from the afternoon humidity and could no longer serve as a place to contemplate.

"I am in charge of going through effects," Sinistra said weakly, and stood weakly.

"Reducio," she said at each of Crouch's larger belongings before dropping them into a cloth bag and tying it.

"Professor Dumbledore said he would gather Mr Moody's things," she said, "but I have to stay here until he does. I have to stay here."

The broken pieces of the mask and the Foe-Glass caught Sinistra's attention, and she quickly enchanted a broom to sweep them up and a dustpan to dump them into the bin. When the professor's back was turned to return the broom and dustpan to the little utility closet, Rhiannon reached into the bin, pulled out the largest shard from the Foe-Glass and the largest piece of the mask, and slipped the items into her pocket.

"I'm sorry, Rhiannon. Please take care of yourself," Professor Sinistra said.

"You too, Professor."

"You can always talk to me, too."

"Thanks…"

Rhiannon wondered what an appropriate amount of pain was over this.

"Erm, you can… talk to me too, Professor."

Professor Sinistra did not turn back around.