I don't own Harry Potter, although I definitely own this story and the rest of the Charlotte Potter series I've put up or am planning on uploading. I love writing Harry or femHarry as a thief, someone who thinks and isn't a mindless follower of Dumbledore and co.
Please let me know what you think.
The Hell of Fourth Year.
The Portkey landed them in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, right in front of the Judges of the Tournament. However, at the time, Charlotte didn't know that for herself.
She was busy recovering from the stomach-churning nausea of Portkey travel. Charlotte gritted her teeth in relief before she opened her remaining eye, thankful that she had taken the advice of the Founders in how to stay on her feet during Portkey travel; when she was staying with the Weasley family, Charlotte had continuously had problems with staying upright whenever she used a Portkey.
It was so embarrassing always crashing to her knees that Charlotte had instantly looked for a way to prevent it happening, but now she was relieved she was able to control herself. The Founders had basically told her she should be keeping her eyes tightly shut when using one, as the brain was disorientated but by using that method and advanced occlumency, she was able to stand up.
As she let herself get her bearings back in a moment, Charlotte looked around for a moment before she spotted the judges of the Tournament
Charlotte was relieved by that because within a moment of landing on the ground, she was able to leap towards Dumbledore in a rage. The orchestra hired to play the cheerful, triumphant ballad had immediately begun playing their instruments as soon as they realised the Champions were there, but as soon as Charlotte rushed towards Dumbledore, her twin custom wands in her hands, ripping away the wands held by the judges and banished a long distance off, followed by the wands carried by their aides, they stopped. They were looking at her in anger but mostly fear.
The crowd gasped in shock when Charlotte punched Dumbledore in the jaw. The old wizard had been taken by surprise when Charlotte has rushed him and how she had essentially taken their wands away, so he was quite unprepared for when the girl punched him in the face again. Dumbledore groaned in agony as he felt the blow, feeling and hearing the sickening crack in his jaw and in his chin as the punch recoiled through his skull. The blow was strong enough to send him to the floor, and it did; he landed on the ground in an undignified heap.
Charlotte looked dispassionately down at him before she took off her sunglasses and looked around the crowd nearby, spotting several people running her way. "Stay precisely where you are," she ordered before she flicked her wand again, and suddenly everyone felt a feeling of dizzying oppression, making them feel as if they were being squeezed in a giant's fist. The people approaching her froze in their tracks.
The Minister's entourage included a few Aurors; the moment the Girl-Who-Lived punched Dumbledore, they instinctively stepped forwards despite losing their wands, and they were strapped for ideas on how to handle this latest incident. But when the girl looked their way, appearing almost demonic, as she glared angrily at them and with her single good eye. She sent the same glare to the audience, her face magnified by the mirrors orbiting the stadium broadcasted her face and her command to the entire wizarding world. Suddenly they felt as if their feet were rooted to the ground before Charlotte turned to send the same glare to the others before she slipped her sunglasses back on, and looked down at Dumbledore before she reached out, and picked him up by the neck, squeezing the thin skin while she lifted the wizard up until his feet were trailing behind him.
Dumbledore gasped and wheezed as he felt the terrifying grip around his throat, and he instantly tried to prise Charlotte's fingers off, but Charlotte was too strong.
She smirked. "You are so weak, it's pathetic," she sneered. "Without your wand, you are useless. The same way I felt when those filthy muggle animals you left me with abused me! No more! You meddle in my life, you expect me to take it. You dictate where I am supposed to live, citing I am not safe, never considering the fact my parents died for me to live, not for some old son of a whore like you to lock me up. And now, you have the nerve to invade my mental privacy! No more, the line must be drawn here, this far, no further! Enough is enough!"
Dumbledore gasped. "I….I only meant to protect you, I didn't know they would do that!"
Charlotte started to laugh, a cold cackle that sent chills down the backs of everyone present. "Liar!"
"No, I mean it-!" Dumbledore wheezed desperately while he looked around, wondering why no-one was stopping this. He had to get free. If he could just get free, let someone distract Charlotte, then he could use the opportunity to use his legilimency skills to rewrite her mind…
"I found the letters, Dumbledore. I found the letters in Arabella Figg's place," Charlotte interrupted.
Dumbledore gaped. He wasn't the only one; in the Hogwarts stands, there were only a few present with any ties to the Order of the Phoenix, however around the country (and in New Zealand), and they knew about Figg.
How had Charlotte found out about her?
Charlotte smiled viciously at them. "I went back to Privet Drive," she said almost conversationally as if this was an amicable lunch setting without her strangling an aged man to death. "I wanted to tie up loose ends by getting rid of the worst of the trauma. You should try it sometime, it's very liberating. You should think of it like…therapy," she suddenly smirked, as if making a joke only she knew the punchline to before her expression hardened, "While I was there, I broke into Arabella Figg's place when I found she was still living there. I'd spent a lot of time at Diagon Alley last year when my bastard godfather escaped, and I spent a lot of time in the pet shop. While I was there I learnt the key differences between cats and Kneazles. When I went back to Privet Drive, I spotted one of her cats, only it had Kneazle characteristics. So I broke into her house while the old bat was out, and when I went in I found out so much. Suddenly, all those contemptuous looks sent my way, all of those times I felt physically ill sniffing and inhaling that awful stench of cabbage made sense.
"Arabella Figg is a member of your Order of the Phoenix, isn't she?" Charlotte's grip on Dumbledore's tightened.
The old wizard didn't reply. He knew the question was rhetorical. In the meantime, he was too busy gasping because of the grip around his throat.
"She's also a squib. That explains why she seemed to hate me so much. Her hatred is identical to that shown by Filch to the students; he is jealous and bitter to everyone because we have magic, he doesn't. Figg is the same. But why was she there on Privet Drive?" Charlotte leaned in closer, lifting Dumbledore higher.
The Champions gasped in horror when they saw the pallor of Dumbledore's face as he was lifted off the ground, but they could not move. At the same time, they wondered where Charlotte was going with this.
"She was there to watch over me. As the only member of the Order who lived in the muggle world full-time, she would have no problem blending in and keeping watch. At the same time, she would write up reports of my….welfare on Privet Drive," Charlotte's voice darkened. "You cast a spell on some of the mirrors of that fucked up house." Rage leaked into Charlotte's voice as her fingers dug into Dumbledore's throat, making him choke. "She watched every minute of my life unfolding! That insane bitch saw the abuse, and she loved every minute of it; those letters she wrote you, saying I was fine were lies, and you bought them, hook, line, and sinker! She even wrote fucking diaries, and she sent recordings not only to you but to her squib friends, titled 'Finally, a Witch gets what We have to endure!' Do you even know how many of those memories I found when I got through the place? Sixty of them!"
Dumbledore gasped as he tried to struggle against Charlotte's grip, but the girl was just too strong and so he couldn't prise her fingers away from his throat. Inwardly, he was horrified by what Arabella had done. When he had set up the spells and cast them on the mirrors in the Dursley's home, he had wanted to ensure the girl was properly monitored by somebody whom he trusted, someone local, but he had never considered what Arabella would do.
Yes, he was more than aware squibs were bitter towards their magical relatives, and who could blame them? Many squibs born in pureblood families were either heavily mistreated, although he genuinely did not understand why since family was important, and family did not abuse family, not in his mind.
However, he had been horrified when he had discovered Charlotte had been abused by her muggle relatives. The monitors he had placed around the Dursley property had made that clear, and over time he had tried hard to not look at them. In the end, he had disabled them, believing that ignorance was bliss, after all only for it all to go horribly wrong when he discovered Charlotte was gone, and the Dursleys were dead.
But he had never considered the possibility Arabella would be entertained enough by the abuse Charlotte had suffered, not to the point where she would actually be entertained by the girl being abused and would send them to her squib friends.
He could understand their delight from a sick angle, of course, but he had never imagined one of his Order would do such a thing.
What was happening in the world? Dumbledore imagined Charlotte had an excellent reason for what she was doing.
"Got nothing clever to say to me, Dumbledore?" Charlotte went on.
Dumbledore coughed. "I didn't know, but I trusted Arabella to watch over you-."
Charlotte's interruption was brutal. "You can't be serious! You trusted a squib, someone without any magical ability, at least outwardly to watch over me? Are you deliberately stupid when you come up with this moronic schemes of yours? What good was she going to do, bash scum like the Death Eaters with a walking stick? Or was she going to call you, so you'd come strutting in like some wizard out of a truly tacky movie, wand blazing so you'd appear like a hero? Think again, buddy; you're not that impressive, even if you are a strutting arrogant son of a bitch! You just wanted someone who could blend in with the crowd; that idiot I met on the street wearing that stupid top hat, the one who shook my hand, didn't seem very bright, and couldn't blend in to save his life. Do you know what the Dursleys did after that bastard who I'm positive is one of your moronic friends or lackeys, or whatever you bloody call them shook my hand? Didn't you bother to tell them not to interact with me, or are you so bone-dead stupid you leave your instructions open to more debate than they should?
"But Figg.… Don't get me wrong; I feel sorry for them for not being able to perform magic, but what Figg did by sending those memories around to her friends for kicks is beyond sick, especially since they could see the irony behind it; a witch who's supposed to be saviour, being beaten and raped by some filthy muggle animal who's the greatest proof to the argument humans are not even a fully evolved, sentient life-form!" Charlotte shook her head at him with disdain written into every pore of her face while her expression was stone cold under her sunglasses. "The people you trust blindly is awesome, isn't it? But do you know what's truly funny, old man; the fact you give them so much latitude about what they can do is shocking and not even keep an eye on them to see what they are doing behind your fucking back. Snape is the perfect example, especially since you've allowed your pet Death Eater to be on an extremely long leash, turning a blind eye to the things he's been doing after he'd likely told you some stupid little sob story no-one normal would ever believe; if it were me, I'd have thrown Snape into a hole and thrown the key into the bottom of my desk where I would keep an eye on him and keep him under control at all times, not give the sad, greasy, pathetic loser free reign with the kids! You only brought him into this school because he told some stupid sob story, but all the time he has a grudge against me 'cause my dad and his stupid friends bullied him, and he can't move on from that. I was abused and raped as a kid, as you've just seen; do you see me hating muggleborns for that. No; he's in his thirties, yet he still acts like a fucking teenager. Go on, grow up you greasy loser.
Charlotte's voice became more scornful. "The bastard is scum, and you have let the fucker get away with weakening the wizarding world, so they can't have Potion Masters and Mistresses, people who are important to society. To the first years, you haven't got a clue," she turned momentarily to face the stands, "not a bloody clue. The Headmaster here does not care about your education. All he cares about is keeping his pet Death Eater happy, and that means making you bad at potions so you don't succeed in life. And he doesn't care who pays the price further down the line. Trust me, I know. If Dumbledore and Snape have their way, none of you will succeed in a key aspect of your magical education."
Dumbledore was cursing Charlotte mentally for that while the crowd gasped in horror, knowing the ICW and so many others were going to hang him for that. Truthfully he wasn't surprised she had revealed that now it had happened, but it was for the Greater Good that Severus had free reign in order to be the spy Dumbledore needed for the next war. Yes, it was inconveniencing the students, but it was a small price to pay for their greater future, and it wasn't as if they wouldn't regain that old potion knowledge, was it?
In the meantime, Charlotte turned back to look down at him with that same cold, blank stare behind her sunglasses. "Did you never think about what you were doing when you let that thing teach, or did you just do what you always do; come up with some stupid and badly thought out scheme which would cause more harm than good down the line, and would take years and a lot of patience to make up for!"
The crowd gasped while Dumbledore mentally cursed when he heard them all. He knew while the school were horrified by what they had just learnt, although many of the more dark-orientated students would be aware of that little truth and not care, he knew the revelation would definitely upset many others, especially in the ICW.
The International Confederation of Wizards had not been amused when Voldemort had originally risen to power, especially so quickly. Dumbledore had needed to truly control their response in case Voldemort did something incredibly stupid, but when the trials were over the ICW had truly wanted to get involved with the whole thing to properly punish the Death Eaters. They had learnt a lot from the Grindelwald war, and they were unwilling to allow so much instability and chaos to reign supreme again.
But now after hearing this, the ICW would put a huge amount of pressure on Britain to ensure Severus either left, or he would be arrested and questioned. Dumbledore refused to allow that to happen since the Potions Master knew too much, but he knew his resources were not as they used to be, and with Fawkes's relationship with him virtually dead, Albus couldn't trust the phoenix to ferry Snape away. Not that he would since Severus and Fawkes did not get along, for reasons unknown to Dumbledore.
"That's enough, Miss Potter," Dumbledore closed his eyes when he heard the grating voice of Dolores Umbridge, and he hoped the disgusting and odious woman did not say or do anything truly stupid; not that they could really do anything, with their magic blocked although he wondered how Charlotte had managed to do that. "You will let us go, or you will be arrested, and as you have already, hem-hem, used questionable spells, you are already in trouble!"
Dumbledore winced. Did the woman know nothing of the Tournament by-laws? As much as he would like to differ, Dumbledore knew there was absolutely nothing they could do about Charlotte's spells. At the same time, he doubted this woman would make Charlotte frightened of her, and if Dolores was foolish enough to threaten Charlotte, he knew who would come out on top; Charlotte Potter was a very very powerful witch, on a much higher scale than Umbridge. The little toad wouldn't stand a chance.
Why did Umbridge always have to make it easy for herself to be contradicted and made out to be as foolish as possible?
Charlotte turned to Umbridge, sneering inwardly when she took sight of the eye-watering pink clothes, the disgusting toad-like face and the fat body. "Who are you?" She asked without letting go of Dumbledore.
Umbridge puffed out her chest self importantly. "I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary for the Minister!" She said pompously with more than a healthy dose of arrogance.
Despite feeling a healthy amount of loathing for the woman the moment she began speaking and spoke with that grating voice reeking of arrogance and pomposity, Charlotte knew what Umbridge was the moment she had begun speaking. A woman with ambitions for power, however, she lacked both the charisma and the magical power to truly achieve power on her own merit, but had not really been able to find any despite searching for it; whenever she got hold of it, the woman would grab it and squeeze it for all it was worth.
She tilted her head so her remaining eye was able to peer out over the rim of her sunglasses. She focused a legilimency probe at the woman, and she instantly felt nothing but disgust for the things this woman was willing to do; she was moonlighting as a woman who went around killing werewolf children, selling muggle-born children into slavery, and she was making a lot of money out of the whole thing.
Charlotte gathered as many details as she could in order to expose this travesty and to make the bitch pay the price, but in the meantime, she would need to deal with her here and now. "I'm happy for you," she said coldly, clamping down on the desire to murder the woman right here; she would deal with Umbridge's illegal activities later, and she would free those kids. And if the Toad got involved… well, accidents did happen. "Stay out of this."
Umbridge gaped at her in amazement, clearly, she was used to people doing what she wanted because of who she was before she laughed a simpering little girl's giggle that made Charlotte and anyone normal flinch. However, for Charlotte, knowing what the odious evil bitch was doing, the sound only made her angrier, especially when she saw the memories of the children who had been begging Umbridge to let them go home, only to be denied.
The urge to kill was rising, and if Umbridge did not shut up, then Charlotte would add another tally to the number of people whom she had offed over the years.
"I beg your pardon, dear? But if you do not stop, then you will be arrested!" Umbridge shouted.
"Silence!" Charlotte's voice snarled loudly, magic laced into the voice until it compelled everyone around her to be silent. "This is a matter of Potter family business. You have no say in my affairs, so stay out. If you interfere, then I will kill you."
Even though he was being suffocated Dumbledore felt his whole body go cold. Had the girl gone so far to the dark she would willingly threaten people if they meddled in her life? Even as he thought that it never occurred to Dumbledore he himself had pushed the girl to that point.
"Now see here, Potter, that is more than enough!" Fudge blustered while he tried to step forward, but the spell holding him in place stopped him. He looked down at his feet, trying to move them but failed. "And I demand you allow us to move!"
Charlotte raised a brow. "No, I don't think I will. You see when your Aurors came close to me, wands raised, I saw them as a threat, and now I have just been threatened for real by your undersecretary; I am not about to let you go simply because you've demanded it. I don't trust you, Minister," she spoke the man's title for all the respect she felt it was worth. "You did, after all, allow a few hundred Dementors to come to the school last year, and you did send an innocent to Azkaban based on an accusation from fifty years before. You didn't even bother to investigate the Chamber of Secrets or the attacks on muggleborns; you only wanted the simplest solution, believing if Hagrid was locked up it would all stop, saying the Ministry had to be seen doing something, but you just wanted a quick and simple solution because you're too lazy to call in the professionals, if they can be called that, to do a decent investigation. Well, lo and behold… it didn't work, did it?"
"How dare you besmirch the name of Cornelius Fudge, you filthy jumped up Half-Blood!" Umbridge shouted while the gasps from the crowd went on as Charlotte described what Fudge had done in his tenure. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and many of the staff of Hogwarts cringed. Indeed, Hermione, the only hostage chosen for the Second Task, who truly knew Charlotte well enough, swallowed in reflex.
"You stupid bitch!" Hermione whispered.
However, she hadn't kept her voice as low as she probably should.
"What do you mean?" Fleur asked the brunette.
"That idiot! Charlotte is not going to let her get away with that," Hermione shook her head, wishing she could step back, but she couldn't.
"What do you mean?" Cedric asked.
"If there is one thing guaranteed to really piss Charlotte off, it's talking about blood status and blood supremacy; her parents were murdered because of that ideology, and considering just how far she has been pushed, in her current state, she's likely to explode like a nuclear bomb!"
Cedric and none of the magical's listening knew what a nuclear bomb was, but Hermione's very real fear of Charlotte's mood and what they had seen her do today made them worried a lot.
Charlotte's voice was as cold as ice. "I think you'll find my blood status means zilch to me."
Umbridge's podgy face purpled. "Let us go! I demand you let us go! I will make sure you are arrested!"
"With that, you are only making me more certain in my decision to freeze you was a wise one, and don't try to break it; you will never be strong enough to defy me to my face. And besides…. After what your Aurors tried to do, interfering in my affairs, you are in no position to make demands. You clearly aren't smart, are you? And as for your statement about me being arrested….What for? You clearly haven't read up on the bylaws of the Tournament; no Champion can be arrested for anything, so you can't truly threaten me. In any case, what I am doing is justified. This old fool has meddled in my life, invaded my privacy, and I am going to make him pay, and if you get in the way… well, let's just say you will not live long enough for it to make any difference," Charlotte's voice was as cold as ice before she looked down at Dumbledore. She glared viciously down at him before she kicked him, hard, in the chest. "Stay away from me!" She warned over Dumbledore's wheezes, and she wondered for a moment if she had broken something. "Don't ever meddle in my life again, because if I find something happening I don't like, then I will come for you, and you will regret the day you ever dumped me on that fucking doorstep. This is your final warning; next time, I will kill you. I will crush you to the size of a doll, and mount your remains on a wall so I can show the next manipulative bastard to cross my path what it will cost them."
XXX
He had never imagined he would have similarities to not one, but two other immensely powerful magicians. And yet, the proof had come in the task that he was not alone. When Barty Crouch Junior discovered his master's origins and his true backstory, he had been shocked, yes. But at the same time, he hadn't cared. Crouch was not stupid; he knew many of his master's policies and his actions during the First War went against everything he was preaching. Pureblood families were being targeted, many of them had been lost in vicious attacks, decimating their lines until they were either crippled, weakened, or wiped out from existence.
It had been a surprise to discover the Dark Lord genuinely did not care at all about the blood supremacy philosophy. Indeed, neither did Junior himself, but for both of them, the prospect of lashing out at the unfair, cruelties of the world was more exciting. Yes, the Dark Lord preached the pureblood's would reign supreme, but Crouch had his doubts about that. It didn't matter.
And now he was witnessing yet another magical, a witch this time; she might be young, but she was incredibly powerful, resourceful and resilient, and he wondered to himself if she would have been this terrifyingly arousing if she hadn't lost her eye. Crouch still felt disappointed he had failed his master's orders, to make sure Charlotte Potter was unharmed enough to survive the Tournament, but his master didn't care; in fact, his master had been delighted she had been maimed, and he said the girl was finally getting some perspective on how he himself felt.
But now…
While Crouch had some issue with the girl lashing out like this, and in public (he had begun thinking of the girl as much smarter than that) and he wondered if she was still more of a Gryffindor with how freely she was attacking Dumbledore and Umbridge, even if personally he didn't care about either of them, he had to admit she had style and balls.
Not only had she attacked a Ministry official, but she had also assaulted Dumbledore, threatening to kill him should the old wizard even think of meddling in her life again.
But Crouch Junior had never expected Charlotte Potter, the Girl Who Lived, to have been abused. Yes, his own father may have abused him mentally over the years, but never something that sick.
Especially by muggles!
Crouch Junior may not entirely share his master's hatred for muggles to the same degree even if he personally saw them as savages, but seeing that he felt nothing but disgust for them. And yet he had stood still in his crippled, assumed form (how the hell Mad-Eye had coped with so many injuries, he had no idea), and he had been lost in his shock and in his thoughts. And he had quickly realised two very important details.
Dumbledore was a fool.
Oh, he had known that anyway, but this was taking the piss even by his standards. Didn't the old fool realise what he had done? There were millions of witches and wizards out there who hated muggles, believing them to be savage and cruel animals. People like Dumbledore kept claiming they were misunderstood, but now he had given them the perfect proof on a platter.
Sure, once they got over their shock a supposed celebrity of the British magical community was abused sexually and physically by the muggles Dumbledore had dumped her on, they were going to put pressure on the Ministry, and they were going to use the Girl Who Lived as a martyr. She would become the poster child of various anti-muggle slogans around the world; all they would need to do was to show that kind of memory to their new recruits, talk about how muggles were animals that needed to be wiped out, and then they would likely start massacring muggles in the girl's name.
Talk about irony. Charlotte Potter was seen as a Light icon, she wasn't meant to be used as a recruitment poster for ant-muggle rhetoric.
Crouch wondered how the girl would take that, but he found himself not caring. However, if he was willing to guess the girl was not going to be happy, especially since people like those groups had been responsible for the death of her parents. She wouldn't want any of that to reflect on her.
Second, he was convinced the girl had murdered her own relatives. It was the only thing that made sense; they had died, and she had survived. And those memories showcasing her abuse, her clear capacities for violence, and the way she went to so much trouble to win…. How else could she have gotten out?
It was a thousand to one chance some muggle criminal would have broken in, killed the muggles living in the house, and just happened to set her free. In fact, it was virtually impossible.
No, Potter must have killed them. She had the means and the motive to do it. He would certainly have murdered his own father and escaped had the bastard touched him and his mother.
At that moment, the timing charm he had placed to vibrate against the flask began to go off. He had placed the charm on the flask to remind him when it was time to take the next dose of Polyjuice potion. Crouch sighed, preparing himself for the awful taste to come. As he pulled out the flask from his pocket, he held back the urge to sigh when he heard McGonagall snap from nearby.
"Honestly, Alastor," the old witch snapped angrily, although he could hear clearly from the way her voice shook she was terrified. "Must you drink that now?"
He ignored her. He opened the top of the flask.
XXX
Charlotte knew she had gone too far. Not only had she attacked Dumbledore and the rest of the judge and the Champions, locking them in place with a blast of magical compulsion, but she had threatened a powerful Ministry official, and she knew even if she had the Tournament by-laws on her side, Umbridge was not going to tolerate it.
The woman, from what Charlotte had read in the woman's depraved excuse for a mind, did not like being humiliated and her M.O for handling things like that was to retaliate as quietly and as painfully as possible. However, Charlotte knew how to hit her where it hurt even more, and she had every intention of making the woman really really pay.
Fudge wasn't going to be a problem. The man would bluster around, and Malfoy senior would whisper in his ear, but Charlotte was positive the elder Malfoy would use his brains and urge Fudge not to make some stupid mistake. However, if she went for Umbridge soon, destroying her career quickly, Malfoy would do his best to make Fudge keep his head down.
Malfoy may have been a slimy bastard, but he wasn't completely stupid, even if his ideas two years back left much to be desired. In fact, in terms of genius-level intellect, between Fudge and him, Charlotte would choose Malfoy every single time.
She was just about to beat the living shit out of Dumbledore, with the mind to tell him no-one hated the Dursleys more than she did, but they had taught her a great deal, especially when it came to inflicting pain. And she was also thinking about projecting some more of the abusive memories to the world; after all, they'd seen one of the most humiliating memories of her childhood, what was a few more?
And then she smelt something. Charlotte closed her eye and sniffed deeply, letting her inner cat come out for a second while she sniffed, turning her head and walking away from Dumbledore. She turned away from Umbridge and Fudge, sniffing deeply. She could smell something, something familiar.
"Potter, get back here, you filthy Halfblood!" Umbridge shouted, but Charlotte ignored her.
That didn't sit well with Umbridge; she reached out and grabbed on to Charlotte.
Charlotte snapped out of her search for the source of the smell, and she punched Umbridge in the gut. The blow made Umbridge wheeze and double up, but Charlotte paid little attention and she resumed her search. She sniffed deeply, letting her inner cat get hold of the smell, and she started moving closer and closer to the source while she tried to identify it.
Everyone was meanwhile wondering what Charlotte was doing, but the girl ignored the calls from others while she tried to identify the smell; she definitely knew it was some kind of potion, and one she knew. She ran the smell through every potion she had inhaled over the years, using her occlumency skill to help her sort through it; she knew it was nothing from her first year, but in her second….
Wait…
Second-year.
Charlotte stilled for a second, her mind going back to the time where she, Granger, and Weasley had used Polyjuice potion to infiltrate the Slytherin common room. Charlotte recalled the event quite well. Weasley had suspected Malfoy as the Heir of Slytherin. In Charlotte's mind, Malfoy was not the candidate who sprang to mind. Draco was a parrot, a loud-mouthed little braggart who opened his mouth and spilt all of his plans, which made it incredibly simple for anyone to outsmart him, and he was ignorant about what was going on, even when it was too late. Unfortunately, Granger had been convinced and so she had overruled Charlotte's objections, so she had made the Polyjuice potion. Weasley had gone as Crabbe while Charlotte had gone, reluctantly, as Pansy Parkinson.
Contrary to Weasley, Charlotte knew that Malfoy and his cronies occupied a small but powerful minority in Slytherin. The rest of the House either ignored or disdained them. She had known if she had gone as Tracey Davis, or Daphne Greengrass, then Malfoy wouldn't have said a word. Charlotte remembered being disgusted by Weasley's lack of intellect or common sense when they had gone to speak to Malfoy, and as much as it disgusted her pretending to be Pansy, simpering around Malfoy, Charlotte hadn't been in the least bit surprised when Malfoy knew nothing about the Heir like anyone else.
But of course, no-one had listened to her beforehand. A whole month, gone… the Polyjuice had been nothing but a waste of time, however, she had smelt it, and it was a godsend now.
Hermione couldn't come to the Slytherin common room. She had made the mistake of taking a cat hair off of Millicent Bulstrode's robes, and she had become a human/cat hybrid for a brief time. But if there was one thing she had learnt in that year, it was the strength of the smell of Polyjuice potion. While it had rung a distant bell with her this time around, her new animagus form's sense of smell was much greater than her human sense of smell. But what surprised her was that Professor McGonagall who was right there, and also had a cat form animagus, hadn't smelt it. She hypothesised that the two processes for the transformation they had used were so different, McGonagall only had the tip of the iceberg of her abilities as a cat. Whereas she had gone to the masters of animagus transformation; the African wizarding community were closer to animals than their European contemporaries, and they had delved deeply into the art of transformation, even further than anyone else, and their knowledge was on par with Native American Indian knowledge.
Charlotte sniffed deeper again, stepping closer to the source of the smell, and then she paused when she saw Mad-Eye Moody with his flask open. The former Auror had his attention focused completely on the flask, and he hadn't noticed her attention on the flask she sniffed again, knowing the source was right in front of her. She took out a wand, and she tapped the end on her head, silently going invisible. She also cast a silencing spell on her feet, while she ignored the calls from the crowd, all of them asking what was going on down there in the pitch, and she ran towards the former Auror, coming to a stop and then inhaling the smell from the flask just as he was lifting it up to drink.
Charlotte exploded into action; she kicked Moody in the face, knocking him backwards and punching him in the gut before she grabbed the flask. She tapped her head with her wand and became visible again. She held up the flask and tipped it slightly, seeing from the polished screens of the mirrors there were close-ups of what was happening just as she flicked her wand at Moody, and he was bound up in extremely large and thick chains. The man gasped under the weight of the metal, but it performed the task very well; not only was he weighed down by the chains and the metal, but there was also no chance in hell of him being able to wriggle his way out being bound so tightly. Once she was sure he was tied down, Charlotte poured some of the potion out onto the short grass of the Quidditch pitch.
"Polyjuice Potion," Charlotte lifted her wand to her mouth, and her voice boomed out over the stadium while she poured some of the thick potion onto the ground. "And since it requires hourly doses, I think we'll find out your real identity soon enough, won't we?"
Moody, or rather the wizard impersonating Moody, glared up at her. He even spat at Charlotte, but the girl just laughed.
"Oh please, if you're going to be one of those types who won't talk even when they're cornered, let me tell you that you will be talking soon enough. It's just a question of whether or not I will torture you to get what I want. Oh, look," Charlotte added, grinning. "I think we'll be seeing who you are very quickly.."
'Moody' was disappearing, his grizzled, wiry grey hair was lightening up slightly to a straw colour. The scars gradually faded, until it left comparatively smoother skin, and the chunk of nose that was missing from Moody's face was replaced with a full nose. The false eye popped out, replaced with a complete flesh and blood eye (Charlotte bit back the urge to curse; it was certain this man had something to do with her placement in this disaster, and like her, he had had to deal with an appearance that left him with just one eye, but it could be rectified every hour). Similarly, Moody's false peg leg popped out when it was replaced by a complete leg.
When the transformation was finished, Charlotte listened to the gasps around her.
"Barty Crouch Junior?"
"I thought he was dead!"
"He's been disguised as Mad-Eye all this time?"
Charlotte meanwhile turned to Barty Crouch Senior, seeing the man pale as he looked down at the bound body of his son. "Your son, I presume, Mr Crouch? I hope you are going to provide an explanation, for your sake. If you don't cooperate, well, let me tell you that its really going to be extremely painful, for you."
"You don't need to threaten him, Charlotte," Dumbledore's voice was full of pain from the small beating he had been given by Charlotte, but his voice was still powerful enough to be heard.
"I beg to differ if I need answers. I am tired of being bullshitted by bastards like you; that comes hard for a survivor to someone pulling the strings," Charlotte countered before she looked down at Crouch Jr. "Why did you put my name in the Goblet of Fire?"
Crouch Jr spat at her again, sneering. He let out a muffled cry before he groaned in pain when Charlotte kicked him in the face.
"Don't ever do that again, not when I'm holding onto the cards," Charlotte sighed. "Why are people in this fucking community stupid?" She asked herself. "Dobby!"
The House-elf appeared, looking around startled, and he was even more startled when he caught sight of Crouch Jr chained on the ground, but he snapped to attention when he looked at his mistress. "Missy Char called Dobby?"
Charlotte smiled kindly at the elf. "Dobby, I want you to break into Professor Snape's potion stores."
"Your elf will do no such thing, Potter!" Fudge yelled while Umbridge recovered from the punch she'd just received.
"Ignore the idiot, Dobby; he's an imbecile who is forever out of his depth," Charlotte countered firmly. "Find the truth potion called Veritaserum, and bring it here, please. And if any of the spells in the place cause you problems, demolish the entire place if you need to. That potion is your number one priority for now. I think this man put me in this tournament, and I want to find out why."
"Dobby can do, Missy Char," Dobby nodded eagerly, but before he could pop away, Charlotte quickly leaned forward and whispered something to the House elf. The moment she pulled away, Dobby's perky demeanour had vanished, leaving him morose and solemn. But he vanished and returned with the potion before he departed again.
Charlotte lifted up the bottle and walked to Crouch Jr. "Please tell me you're one of those people who will refuse to cooperate if asked to open your mouth for truth potion to be shoved down your throat?" She said as she unstoppered the bottle while she tried to recall just how many drops were needed for this particular type of potion; was it four, or was it three?
Crouch Jr kept his mouth shut, making Charlotte smirk down at him. "I was hoping for that," she replied, lifting her wand after putting the phial in one hand.
"Potter! You will turn that Death Eater over to us for proper interrogation. You don't have permission to use that potion! You can't do it here-!" Fudge shouted, but Charlotte ignored him. She just lifted her wand, and she fired a spell at Jr's leg.
The spell impacted Crouch's leg, and there was a sickening cracking sound, and even through the chains, it looked like the leg had just been twisted. Crouch opened his mouth, gasping in agony before the sudden pain bubbled through his throat. He began to scream in agony before Charlotte took the opportunity to pour the potion down his throat - she might have exceeded the dose, but she didn't care. She was going to get answers, and if the bastard didn't like it, too bad. At the same time, she cast a numbing charm on the leg; she wanted the answers to be clear, concise, and emotionless.
When she saw clearly that Crouch's eyes were glazed, Charlotte began speaking. "Why did you put my name in the Goblet of Fire?" She asked, certain it was him.
"My Master ordered me to put your name into the Goblet," Crouch's voice was calm and controlled.
Charlotte spared Umbridge and Fudge a look for a moment. "Who is your Master? What does he call himself?"
"Lord Voldemort."
The crowd shrieked and screamed with terror and denial, but Charlotte put a stop to that. She whipped off her sunglasses and glared at the mirrors. "SILENCE!"
The crowd went silent instantly.
"You will be silent during this interrogation," Charlotte looked back down at Crouch without slipping the sunglasses back over her face, and she glared down at Crouch Jr with her one good eye. "Voldemort is alive. Why did he want me in the Tournament?"
"He wants your blood to resurrect him in a ritual and to restore him to full strength." Even through the potion, it was clear Crouch was fighting to keep his mouth shut.
"Mm," Charlotte gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, making plans and counter plans to deal with this situation. "Now, tell me… is there such a thing as an innocent Death Eater? We have been hearing stories of Death Eaters being placed under the Imperius curse, and they're innocent. Is that true?"
"Now, Charlotte, there's no need for you to ask that-," Dumbledore tried to say, but he couldn't since whatever form of magic she had used to stop everyone speaking had affected him as well.
But it was too late. "No, it is not true. All of the Death Eaters serving the Dark Lord do so willingly; the ones whom he blackmails are pushed into committing dark deeds using a simple tattoo the Dark Lord burns into their skin, allowing him to pour suggestions into their minds. When the process is completed, they become willing Death Eaters," Crouch explained.
"Ah, I see. How interesting," Charlotte muttered, her mind going over the explanation. In her mind, it would make perfect sense, and it seemed like the most efficient way of making people the perfect pawns for Voldemort and his agenda. "So, two questions for you, Crouch; people like Malfoy and the others… they did it all willingly? Would they be willing to do it again? Reply to both questions, please."
"Yes," Crouch's reply seemed to sound the death knell for many.
Charlotte smiled triumphantly. "Who was my parents' secret keeper."
"Peter Pettigrew."
If Charlotte hadn't ensured silence, everyone would be gasping. But they watched and listened silently, frozen in their bodies.
"What did the Death Eaters do?" She asked.
She had no intention of letting the Death Eaters get away with the crimes anymore. She had their ultimate punishment well in hand, but that would need to wait until she could get to Voldemort himself. But if she was somehow able to twist the public against the Death Eaters….
"We killed civilians on raids, raped and tortured muggles, especially girls and young children. We used all the Unforgivable curses on muggles as well as wizards. We kidnapped pureblood girls to use as leverage against certain opponents so they would be brought around to our way of thinking. The girls themselves would be married off to eligible Death Eaters, who would breed them into providing future recruits to the Dark Lord's cause. We also ran slavery rings, bringing in muggle children and forcing them to work for us," Crouch replied.
Charlotte resisted with great force of will not to use the Tissue Compression Elimination curse on Crouch as the images jumped into her mind; muggle children, frightened and forced to work under the jeers of the Death Eaters as they were cursed. Pureblood girls, whom Voldemort and his bastard followers, were championing, forced to be nothing more than broodmares… "And no one can be forced to take the Dark Mark?" She added to clarify her points.
"No, you need to prove yourself to the Dark Lord. You need to torture and kill a prisoner to be worthy of the Mark," Crouch revealed.
"Dumbledore likes to think you and others like you can be redeemed, what do you think about that?" Charlotte's voice was pure evil as she turned her head sideways to look at the old wizard in question; Hermione wished she could see the other girls' remaining eye, but she was willing to bet the look there was malicious.
It should have been impossible for Crouch to smile, or laugh, but somehow he managed to sound amused. "Dumbledore is a sentimental fool, who many of the others take advantage of. We give him some sob story, and the senile old fool believes us without any question. He is so easy to fool. We have no regrets about the fun we cause."
Charlotte turned and saw many people look sick and furious at what the Death Eater had revealed. But she had one more question to ask. "Would you do it all over again if given the opportunity?"
"Yes," Crouch replied.
Charlotte nodded and she walked back to Fudge and Dumbledore, and she waved her wand at them, and in the general direction of the crowd.
"That thing," she pointed at Crouch's still bound body, "is scum. You've just heard him reveal he wouldn't feel sorry for repeating his actions, and you've heard him admit to what the Death Eaters are doing, and what they think about your attempt to rehabilitate them, Dumbledore. I think its time for you to take a step back, and let real law enforcement people who are better qualified do the job sort the scum out instead of you interfering and causing more damage further down the line."
She turned to Madam Bones. She took off her sunglasses and stared at the woman who had at one time been a valued ally of her family. "You can take him to the Ministry," she said, not really caring anymore about what would happen to Jr now. "Wring him dry if you like, and this time think about the cost of keeping someone like him alive. He will just do it all over about if he gets out, so keep that in mind."
Charlotte looked around the stadium. "You can move now," she said simply, and she turned around and walked off, tapping her head again so she would become invisible while pandemonium exploded behind her. Charlotte knew she had just dropped the wrecking ball on so many illusions, but truthfully she didn't care. It was time the Wizarding world woke up to reality.
