I don't own Harry Potter.

Please let me know what you think, although be warned - this chapter is nasty and you may not like what you find.

You have been warned.


The Hell of Fourth Year.

It was during the confrontation broadcasted by the mirror in the Quidditch stadium Dumbledore was confronted with Fudge, who had brought his entourage including the odious form of Dolores Umbridge with him, which was not really a surprise since the entourage was made up of people who fawned over Fudge and told him how brilliant he was.

The moment he saw Fudge marching towards him, believing that his righteous posture screamed that he was anything but a joke, Dumbledore prepared himself for the inevitable.

He wasn't surprised he was going to receive an earful from Fudge, but seeing him approach with both that strut which spoke volumes about the Minister's arrogance and his belief he was a great wizard and wise politician when he was anything but, striding across the pitch with the same entourage who fawned over him, trusting them all to give him excellent advice when in fact they were far out of their depth much like Fudge was himself, it said the opposite in Albus' mind.

Dumbledore had noticed Fudge's presence earlier as the Second Task had unfolded before their eye, but the Minister had not been anywhere near the proceedings, for which Dumbledore would be eternally grateful for although it was mostly because of his efforts to keep him from one of those pointless photo ops.

In Fudge's mind, Voldemort was dead. End of story. The fact they had just seen a younger version of the Dark Lord just as Riddle was about to embark on his life as a psychotic Dark Lord was likely already sending waves through the magical world and Dumbledore had to hide a smile at what Charlotte had said.

With any luck, many people would be asking questions about Voldemort's twisted philosophy, meaning many more would stay away from the Dark which would mean more and more families would not lose people along the way, and while he knew many would be protesting about the spectre of Tom Riddle in the Tournament, but Dumbledore already had something in mind to make sure no-one protested too far. He was old enough and experienced enough with politics to know how to call in a few favours if the protests went too far if his statement that he merely wished to challenge the Champions, and he had even prepared a contrite little apology if things didn't go the way that he wished.

In any case, he could always use the blackmail he had accumulated over the years to help him settle things down.

The only thing that worried him the most was when Charlotte had made that observation about having never experienced love before, but as Dumbledore thought it over he had to admit it was the case, although he would have been happier if his plans to connect Charlotte to Ronald Weasley had been fulfilled, but alas Dumbledore was no longer going to attempt that now he had given the matter serious thought, and decided to cut his losses and proceed with his plans.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," Fudge protested in that usual blustering manner of his which never failed to grate on other people's nerves as he approached the judge's platform, "what is all this nonsense with You-Know-Who? That young boy cannot be him!"

Dumbledore sighed, wondering how he could escape from this diminutive moron and his equally stupid friends. He had never imagined Fudge would rise high in the ranks in the Ministry, especially since he had been a poor student and not a very bright wizard, but he had been surprised when Fudge had ascended to the position of Minister, although it was mostly thanks to his credit of arresting Sirius Black he had managed to get there in the first place.

That was one of the reasons why Fudge was so against the idea of Sirius being innocent, because he didn't want to lose his position as Minister, nor did he want it getting out he had gotten there on a lie. In the past Fudge had been polite, asking for Dumbledore's help and advice whenever he was out of his depth, and it had been a frequent occurrence since Fudge had always had problems with handling the day to day affairs. While he hadn't minded since it was good to have a new minion willing to listen to him, it had grated on Dumbledore's patience. He never got any thanks for his advice, and more than once he wondered if a little voice deep inside Fudge's brain was asking him why he had bothered becoming Minister since he couldn't make up his own mind about what needed doing.

While Fudge had been polite at first, and Dumbledore had been more than willing to help him but only if Fudge followed the agenda Albus set down for him, there were times Dumbledore wondered if it was worth it.

Unfortunately, others had scented blood, seeing the Minister as nothing more than a weakling. Among them was Lucius Malfoy, and although Dumbledore could hinder the arrogant blond Death Eater easily, Malfoy had poisoned Fudge's brain and made the Minister make decisions which in the long run would cause more harm than good.

But one of the things Dumbledore despised about Fudge was his inability and unwillingness to learn anything new.

"And why is that, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked, waving his wand discreetly, absently noting that the few Aurors near the so-called Minister didn't react at all while he established the privacy ward around himself and the other judges but the Minister and his entourage while allowing them to see and hear what was happening in the task. He didn't want any of this to get out.

Fudge spluttered, lost for words before he recovered some of his composure. "Everyone knows You-Know-Who looked like a snake, that couldn't be him!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment so he could muster his patience, reminding himself once more why he had adopted the long game following the mess he and Grindelwald had made with that duel when Aberforth had interfered. While he could claim the Greater Good warranted his ideals and that all this was beneficial in the long run, having to cope with Fudge was one of those drawbacks. "You refuse to believe that Lord Voldemort looked like that, and yet you believe he resembled a humanoid snake during his school years?" Albus pointed out mildly.

As usual, whenever he was faced with a logical statement which contradicted his world view, Fudge just ignored it. "It cannot be him. I do not know what you are playing at, Dumbledore, but I will not allow you to spread panic about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Dumbledore lifted a brow. He wasn't impressed with the threat in Fudge's tone, but if the little fool believed that he could cause problems for Dumbledore, then the old wizard would make him regret it.

At that point Barty Crouch approached, gazing down at Fudge with a contempt that was not even masked. "Minister, we have already heard Miss Potter say that was him-," Crouch said, but he was interrupted quickly.

"Hem-Hem, only the word of a minor witch who is likely looking for attention," Dolores Umbridge simpered.

Dumbledore stared at her, wondering what had made her say that especially since everyone around the world had seen him make that oath. Did she live on Planet Earth or what?

But then he saw the way she pointed her gaze at Fudge, and then he realised what she was doing.

Crouch continued speaking as though he hadn't interrupted, but the look in his eyes as he fixed a glare onto Umbridge spoke volumes. "So she is faking that anger, is she? During this tournament, Miss Potter has proven to be a powerful and very mature young lady despite some of her harsher methods. If you feel that way, we can speak to her about it."

Fudge waved a hand. "No, there is no point. Dolores is right, the girl is obviously lying for attention, yes that's it!"

Dumbledore resisted the urge to curse the little pompous fool right there and then, not even hiding his annoyance at Fudge jumping at an explanation that he not only liked but approved of. The most amazing thing about Fudge was the little fool just had no idea of how ignorant he was in real life about his ignorance. He truly believed the nonsense he spouted and heard from other imbeciles around him. It was ridiculous.

It was as if his brain gathered data from all sources around him - the rational and the fantastic - and it just cherry-picked the best bits it liked while discarding the rest happily without any more thought while he moulded it into his own form of gospel truth.

In this case, Fudge believed that Umbridge was right about Charlotte, about her being a spoilt brat wanting attention any way she could while dismissing the fact Charlotte hadn't conjured this apparition of Voldemort, happily ignoring the fact he, Dumbledore, had gone to the trouble of swearing a magical oath that it was the truth.

Disgusted by the odious little man, Dumbledore turned away and fixed his attention on the task, watching as the Champions Portkeyed out of that part of the task, wondering how they'd take to the next challenge, inwardly wondering to himself if maybe when the time came he should just get Fudge thrown out of office…

XXX

The next place the Portkey landed them was a large chamber made completely of black stone that had been polished so brightly all of the Champions could see distorted reflections of themselves. The dim lighting of the room they were in made it hard for them to see how large this place was, and the mirrored reflections was a really eerie experience.

Fleur shuddered as she caught sight of one reflection of herself which was stretched really tall, and another reflection which made her look bloated and fat. "Merlin, now what?"

Cedric shuddered himself and he was forced to look away from the reflections of himself. "I can't see anything that I think is part of the Task."

Charlotte was silent as she herself looked around the mirrored place. She had to admit that Cedric had a point. There was no sign of anything here which looked like it belonged to the Task. But she knew there was a point to this, there had to be.

Even the Wizarding world was not stupid and complacent enough to land them here. In any case, after being dropped in that place with the chessboard, the sewer…Charlotte was willing to bet in the next few minutes, they would all know what this next challenge entailed.

"Hold on, what's that light?"

Charlotte looked around and saw through the dark lenses of her sunglasses the lighting of the room was turning a deep purple colour. She lifted her wands, mentally selecting different spells for different scenarios even though she was out of her depth. "I don't know. Where's it coming from?"

Krum spared her a look. "It's all around us."

Cedric noticed something odd about the reflections. "Hold it, look at the walls. The reflections are changing."

Charlotte turned to him and followed his gaze. Cedric was right, the reflections were changing. Where they'd been distorted before, now the images were becoming clearer, more refined.

"No, no it's just one patch. The rest of this place isn't changing," she said, seeing that the walls seemed to be melting around the patch of reflective surfacing like melting black ice.

Cedric stepped closer to her. "Any theories?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged, mentally wondering why on Earth he was asking her. "I don't know. You've got me. We could be in some kind of maze, but then again we might not. So far, some of the challenges of this Task have proven to be elaborate, my guess is this part is too."

Fleur started chanting, running her wand over the wall. "I don't recognise some of the spells. I've just scanned the magic of the wall, and I can't make heads or tail of them. But I do recognise a strong illusion ward, but it's coupled to another spell entirely. Another enchantment."

"You don't recognise it, do you?" Charlotte asked while she held her own wands, tempted to join the French witch and run her own scans, using some of the spells taught to her by Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but she was torn. If she ran the scan, and if she recognised the enchantments on the wall, there was a chance Dumbledore would get suspicious…

Oh, what did it matter?

She had proven she was powerful and knowledgeable about magic, what did it matter now?

She lifted her wands and she waved them over the wall.

"Mm, it's not just an illusion ward. I wonder….hold on," she said, walking over to another part of the chamber and she waved her wands over the reflective surface while she tried not to look at the reflection of herself. She stood back in surprise, looking at the wall with surprise.

The other Champions noticed her posture.

"Potter, what is wrong?" Krum asked.

"Charlotte?"

Charlotte ignored them and she went to another patch of wall in the small chamber and performed the next scan. It was the same result. She went to another patch of wall to scan it, but she clearly got the same result.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?" Cedric asked, starting to lose his patience.

"You should have checked the rest of this place when you had the chance, Fleur," Charlotte said, running her wand over the walls. "This place is a cage."

"A cage?"

"Yeah, the enchantments are advanced, but there's more than enough here for me to work with to get some answers. One of the enchantments uses the same type of magic you'd find in a pensive; it goes through your mind, but why I don't know."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I've been brushing up on my studies. In any case, when I learnt wizards and witches like Voldemort used the mind arts to tear through the minds of their victims, I wanted to be able to fight back," Charlotte replied, making Cedric shudder. Out of all the Champions, the British born wizard was more than aware of the violent reputation of the evil wizard who'd terrorised the British Isles and in some areas of Europe, and he had heard horror stories of how some of You-Know-Who's victims had been mentally destroyed, reduced to vegetables before begging for death.

And the bastard had been more than willing to oblige, claiming he was a merciful lord.

Hearing the Girl Who Lived say she had studied long and hard to avoid such a fate made a degree of sense. But it was no way for anyone to live, and Cedric wondered what else Charlotte had up her sleeves, especially when you took into perspective the fact she was thief.

"But what is the point?" Cedric asked.

Fleur shivered. "Oui, what is the point? Why would they set this up, a place where they go through our minds?"

Krum glowered around him, clenching his fist around the handle of his wand. "It seems they're willing to go to any lengths to get entertainment, yes? Even invade our privacy, reveal our secrets…."

A gentle beam of light suddenly shone into the faces of the Champions, shining into Fleur's face first. Startled, the French Veela backed away, clenching her eyes shut before the beam moved off.

"W-what was that?" Fleur asked, watching as the beam moved off to shine into Cedric's face.

The Hufflepuff Champion was just as startled by the beam, but unlike Fleur the wizard was more alert after seeing the light shine in the face of his competitor. "I don't feel anything…," he commented slowly. "But I do feel a light brushing against my own occlumency barriers."

"Mm, now I think about it I did feel something in my own mind, but I was too startled to understand what it was," Fleur commented before the beam moved away from Cedric and switched over to Viktor, who jumped in surprise.

Unlike the last two Champions, the Durmstrang Champion was more fearful of the beam. He tried backing away from the beam when it shone on him, and he backed away in terror.

"It's okay, Viktor," Cedric said soothingly, holding up his hands to placate the other wizard, but Charlotte personally thought he was wasting his time.

"How do you know that?!" Viktor glared at Cedric, anger warring with fear in his face. "You don't know, do you, just how seriously wizards in my part of Europe take mental invasion? To us, it is the ultimate crime as the mind is sacred. For all, we know the judges of this Tournament plan to rip our memories out and play them out for their amusement."

"Viktor's right; it wouldn't be the first time some witches and wizards crossed the boundaries of what was acceptable and unacceptable, and they wouldn't think twice about looking into our minds without looking to the long-term consequences," Charlotte commented, looking at the beam with an ugly expression under her sunglasses. She didn't like this anymore than they did.

The beam of light shining on Viktor didn't stay long, mostly because the Bulgarian was so fearful of the thought of his mind being ransacked, and eventually the beam lost patience and it moved away from Viktor and it moved onto Charlotte, who was as thrilled by its as Viktor was himself. But unlike the Bulgarian and the other two Champions, the light seemed more persistent as if suddenly interested in Charlotte.

The light changed colour as it shone on Charlotte, turning from an unremarkable white colour to a red colour.

"What's going on?" Charlotte asked, surprised by the sudden change of colour.

None of the Champions could answer her question. On the original part of the wall which had transformed earlier but had been temporarily forgotten while the beam had shone on them misted over, thickening until it resembled thick, choking smoke. To the Champions surprise the entire chamber they were standing in seemed to vanish into a puff of smoke before the image cleared.

"Wh-what is that?" Fleur asked, looking in surprise as the image solidified. They were standing inside an unnaturally clean interior of a house with a large armchair with a matching sofa. On the mantlepiece and on nearby shelves was a collection of photographs Fleur was bemused of since they showed what looked like a large pink beachball. She walked over to the shelves and saw a really large boy with blond hair and watery little blue eyes growing up in life.

"Oh, no."

Fleur looked up at the sound of Charlotte's voice. The younger witch was looking around herself with an expression which seemed to be mixing between rage and terror. "No, no, no. Please….don't let it be….here!"

Suddenly the Champions heard a scream, the scream of a little girl.

Charlotte was on the point of hyperventilating when she and the other Champions saw a large, purple-faced man towering over a very small, very terrified black-haired girl.

"YOU LITTLE FREAK! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY OUR DINNER! WE TAKE YOU IN UNDER THE GOODNESS OF OUR HEARTS, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US!" the man screamed before lashing out with a meaty fist and punched the girl right in the cheek.

Fleur's eyes widened in horror and she clapped a hand to her mouth when the man punched the girl, making her scream. The French Champion looked at the others, seeing their own horrified reactions to what they were witnessing while the little girl whimpered in pain and fear. Suddenly she lifted her head, and everyone around the world took in the delicate face, the emerald green eyes and the lightning bolt-shaped scar.

The Champions looked on in horror, looking between the small girl and Charlotte, who was only just now starting to get her composure back - Fleur and Viktor recognised it as occlumency, and judging from the ease she seemed to use to bring her emotions under control, she was stamping down hard on her feelings. The expression on the youngest Champion's face, even underneath the sunglasses was closed off, but they could tell whatever Charlotte was thinking, whatever emotion she was feeling, it was blazing with terrible strength as she watched as her younger self was beaten.

The child Charlotte sobbed as she clutched her cheek out of reflex, her eyes watering with pain.

"STOP CRYING!" the fat man screamed, punching the girl again, making her cry out again.

"And people wonder why I am indifferent and uncaring when it comes to muggles," Charlotte commented darkly, her gaze focused on the fat muggle.

Cedric looked at her worriedly, a part of him remembering vaguely how indifferent Charlotte had been back in Second Year when everyone had accused her of setting the basilisk on the school. Perhaps deep down she truly hated muggles, and after seeing this who could blame her, but now he was wondering how she could be so calm seeing this. But then he noticed her clenched fists, and he realised she was furious. No, she was enraged.

He felt the same. What kind of mind would come up with a challenge like this? Why, what was the point?

"I-I c-c-couldn't reach the c-cooker, Uncle Vernon!" the little girl sobbed, her tiny voice shaking with fear and pain.

"YOU CALL THAT AN EXCUSE, YOU LAZY, WORTHLESS FREAK! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH YOUR WORTHLESS PARENTS IN THAT CAR CRASH!" Vernon yelled before he grabbed the girl, and threw her screaming into a cupboard under the stairs.

"That filthy cupboard was my bedroom for my childhood," Charlotte growled, letting some of her darker emotions out. "Those filthy muggles shoved me in there to punish me, I was forced to live in my own excrement. Not that anyone on that filthy muggle street gave a toss, just like nobody in fucking Hogwarts did."

Cedric was looking at her in horror. It was one thing hearing about what Charlotte had gone through, but seeing it was something else.

The memory suddenly changed, showing Charlotte working in the kitchen while trying to keep her head down. Unfortunately, everyone around the room took note of Vernon's piggy eyes watching her. Unexpectedly the fat muggle stood up and leaned against the counter as he watched the young girl.

"It's your birthday today, isn't it, Girl?" the fat muggle said in a conversational voice.

Fleur frowned at the emphasis on the word girl. Why didn't the muggle use Charlotte's name.

The memory Charlotte looked up suddenly, stunned by the question. "Y-yes, Uncle Vernon," she replied.

"Well, I think you deserve your birthday present."

The look on Charlotte's face was heartbreaking. "M-my present?" she repeated.

"Yes," Vernon replied, walking around the kitchen to where there was a strangely shaped kettle.

Charlotte watched him curiously. "What is my birthday present?"

"It's just coming," Vernon suddenly said.

Charlotte nodded, and she even let loose some of the excitement she was obviously feeling at getting a present. Just seeing the excitement worried and upset Fleur, and she was sure her feelings were being shared around the world, but what terrified the French Veela the most was that this was a complete 180 from what they had seen so far.

The kettle whistled, wisps of steam rising from the spout as the water reached the boiling point. Vernon lifted the kettle off of the mount and walked over to where Charlotte was standing. Suddenly he punched her in the face, making her cry in pain before he knocked her to the floor.

He bent down and tore off the girl's oversized shirt, exposing her creamy white skin which had been marred with scars from dozens of previous beatings.

"Here's your birthday present, Freak!" Vernon said, and with that, he poured the boiling hot water unto Charlotte's exposed skin. The girl screamed in pain, and Fleur and the other three Champions winced at the volume of the scream while Charlotte watched, listening to her younger self cry.

The memory changed, this time showing a bedroom with a massive double bed. Fleur grimaced; even by the standards of women, this bedroom was tacky beyond belief, but any further thought was stopped when they heard a familiar scream and the muffled voice of Vernon.

"Shut up, girl!"

The door to the bedroom crashed open and Vernon stormed in carrying Charlotte under his arm. It was obvious the fat muggle was holding her too tightly since Charlotte was struggling to escape. It aggravated Vernon, and he smacked her over the head. The blow stunned Charlotte and she drooped like a doll.

Fleur shivered when she took in the hideous grin on Vernon's face, and she felt a lot of foreboding when he threw Charlotte onto the bed. The girl was moaning a little in pain, her eyes dazed from the blow she'd just received and she was breathing heavily to try to bring in some fresh air into her lungs after having nearly been choked to death.

The French Veela had a bad feeling about this scene, a terrible idea dawning in her mind. One glance at the other Champions and she could see the same thought had occurred to them, but one look at Charlotte's expression told her nothing.

Her worst fears were confirmed when Vernon lifted a hand and rested it on Charlotte's thigh. He didn't slap it, he just stroked it. Fleur clapped her hand to her mouth again in horror when she watched the fat pig of a muggle take off his trousers. She had to close her eyes and turn away when Charlotte let out a hideous scream of agony as the muggle raped her, tears streaming down her little face as Vernon laughed, enjoying her pain and torment as he carried on.

Cedric looked between the scene and the girl next to him in horror. Charlotte had admitted she had been abused mentally and physically, but he hadn't expected it to be this horrific.

Rape.

Charlotte had been raped, as a child.

By her own relatives, no less. She had been raped, and yet no-one had done anything about it. Cedric truly hoped that Dumbledore hadn't known about this, because if he had and he had still done nothing, then it would destroy the faith so many people had for the ancient wizard.

He had heard from Charlotte the Dursleys hated magic, but to take it to this extent…

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the memory changed again. This time Charlotte physically shivered when she heard the terrified meows of a very small kitten.

"No," she whispered. "Please, not again…!"

"Where did you get this filthy animal, girl?" a horse-faced woman, who was clearly Vernon's wife hissed. Next to her was an obese boy whom Fleur took to be around Charlotte's age, but it was hard to be sure. The boy was fat, really fat. It was hard to believe any responsible parent would ever allow their child to become that fat so quickly.

Charlotte looked at the woman terrified while she cuddled the kitten to her chest. "I-I found her outside," the girl squeaked. "Please, don't hurt her!"

"HURT IT! WE DON'T WANT IT IN THIS HOUSE! FREAKS KEEP PETS, NOT NORMAL PEOPLE!" Vernon growled, and he reached out and grabbed the cat. The kitten, already agitated by the shouting and the hostility, lashed out with its small, but very sharp claws.

Vernon yelled and immediately sucked his finger, but he recovered quickly. Charlotte gasped in horror when she saw the rage in her uncle's eye, but before she registered what was happening, she was hit in the face. When she recovered, everyone's eyes widened in horror when they saw the thrashing and terrified young cat in Vernon's hands. One hand was going around the panicking kittens' neck...

"No! Please!" Charlotte screamed, but it was too late, with one last pained meow, the fat muggle snapped the cat's neck. The other Dursleys were cheering him on, while the younger boy jeered in Charlotte's face while the small girl cradled the cat's body in her arms, crying at the sight of its neck and head at an unnatural angle. The muggles didn't notice the look in the young witch's eyes, but the audience did.

The emerald green eyes were watering with tears as she was upset she had just lost a friend, but there was another darker emotion there.

Hatred.

As she watched the scenes play out, Charlotte was trying hard not to react. In her mind, she was enraged her privacy had been invaded in such a wanton manner, but what worried her the most was what else would be revealed.

There were many memories, things, she didn't want to be revealed, ever.

Her burglaries. The robbery in Belgravia which had gone terribly wrong. Her animagus transformation. But most of all, she did not want the magical world to know what had happened to the Dursleys. Cedric knowing was one thing, the rest of the magical world would be disastrous, and judging by the look she was receiving, she could tell he had picked up on the same thought.

Under no circumstances was the wizarding world to discover what had happened to the Dursleys.