Crossing Ways
Author's Note: This chapter was at the same time easy and hard for me to write. It was easy because the dialogue was already written by JKR, but it was also hard because I wanted to write something that actually ADDED to the story. Anyone can copy down a dialogue; I wanted to make it different. I tried to accomplish that by showing Bill's point of view. I hope you guys like it! :)
Oh, and at last but CERTAINLY not least: JUNE 21st! YEAH, baby! *Happy Snoopy Dance* :)
Chapter 3: At the Hospital Wing
Bill ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make his brain stop thinking over everything that had happened and that might have happened that night. It would do him no good to conjure up all kinds of absurd explanations for something that he would probably find all about it the following morning.
Looking around, Bill noticed that Professor Moody was lying on one of the beds at the far end of the room. He frowned. But before he could say anything, loud voices could be heard coming from the outside corridor.
"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!" Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?" Bill asked, unsure.
Mrs. Weasley was quickly on her feet. "That's Fudge's voice. And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"
"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva – " Fudge was practically yelling.
"You should never have brought it inside the castle! When Dumbledore finds out – "
The doors of the hospital wing burst open, and Bill pulled back the screens around Harry's bed to see Mr. Fudge striding up the ward. Professor McGonagall and Snape were right behind him.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley. Bill looked over Fudge's shoulder and saw Madam Pomfrey leaving her office. At the sight of Fudge, she gasped, turned on her heels, and left the room altogether.
"He's not here. This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to – "
The door opened and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward, Madam Pomfrey following him a bit behind.
"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Minerva. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you – I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch – "
Bill was confused for a moment. Barty Crouch? Percy's boss who had disappeared?
"There is no need to stand guard over him any more, Dumbledore!" she screeched. "The Minister has seen to that!" Professor McGonagall was trembling with fury, her cheeks reddened, and her hands forcefully closed as if to prevent her from taking out her anger at Fudge.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," Bill almost gasped at Snape's softly spoken words. A Death Eater? "He seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a Dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch – "
McGonagall and Fudge's screaming faded out to the background as Bill thought hard trying to make some sense out of it all. Barty Crouch? The former Death Eater Inquisitor and Executioner who had been missing for months? This didn't make any sense… Barty Crouch would NEVER become a Death Eater…
As realisation damned on him, Bill felt as though a bucket of ice-cold water had fallen on him. They couldn't possibly be talking about Barty Crouch Junior, could they? Hadn't he died at Azkaban?
Bill shook his head and tried to focus on the discussion about Dementors and Barty Crouch taking place in front of him. Apparently Crouch was not only alive but he also seemed to be the Death Eater he had been accused of being once. Bill couldn't help but remember the quiet boy with straw-coloured hair a few years older than him that he had met at Hogwarts. A boy so unlikely to harm even a Cornish pixie let alone the entire wizarding community.
"The moment that – that thing entered the room," McGonagall's screams cut through Bill's thoughts, "it swooped down on Crouch and – and – "
Bill froze. The Dementor's Kiss. One of the fouler if not foulest destinies to any person, wizard or not, bad or good.
"By all accounts, he is no loss! It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore as he looked intently at Fudge. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? " Fudge said stridently. "Well, that's no mystery, is it? He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, too seriously for Bill's liking. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."
This time around, Bill gasped. You-Know-Who was back? Alive? If Dumbledore said so, it had to be true, but even so… Bill found it a bit hard to believe. Or rather, he didn't want to believe it.
"You-Know-Who…returned?" Fudge stammered. "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you, we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, – "
Well, thought Bill, that explains part of it.
" – and how Voldemort – learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins – went to free him from his father, and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge gave that small and superior smile of his that Bill disliked so much. It was the same smile Fudge sometimes used when dealing with his father. "You – you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who – back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders – but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…"
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort. He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." Dumbledore glanced around at the Weasleys and Hermione and shook his head at Fudge. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."
Fudge's superior smile lingered as he too surveyed the room before looking back at Dumbledore. "You are – er – prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
There was silence for a moment, except for the dog's growling. You could feel the tension in the room as if you could cut it with a knife. Even the dog was showing his displeasure at Fudge by barring its teeth at him.
"Certainly I believe Harry." Dumbledore's eyes were burning. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge was still smiling as he glanced around again. "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer and a boy who…well…" He looked pointedly at Harry's bed this time.
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge." Bill jumped when he heard Harry's voice. He hadn't realised that Harry had woken up, and by the looks of it, neither had his Mum, Ron or Hermione.
Fudge's face blemished faintly with shame, but his eyes took an insolent and stubborn look. "And if I have?" he said, staring at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place – "
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" Dumbledore asked, evenly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then? Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly – hallucinations?"
Bill was instantly reminded of Ginny and her nightmares. Was it possible that the nightmare she had had earlier that night…?
"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore shortened the distance between himself and Fudge, "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge backed away from Dumbledore, but continued obstinately. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…"
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry yelled and made a move to get off bed, but Mrs. Weasley didn't let him. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy – "
"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge as if he had been insulted. "A very old family – donations to excellent causes – "
Bill heard his younger brother snorting.
"MacNair!"
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle – "
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore – the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year, too – his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"You fool!" McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" hollered Fudge, his face mottled with increasing anger. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilise everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
Bill was fuming. Mr. Weasley had mentioned, on rare occasions, that Fudge was a typical politician, so worried about himself and his political image that he worried very little with the Wizardry community itself. The fact that Voldemort had risen again was a sure thing to shake the very grounds on which the Ministry of Magic stood. And Fudge looked ready to dismiss Voldemort's return as merely a rumour just because he didn't want to risk the Ministry that he had helped built after the war.
"Voldemort has returned. If you accept that fact straight away, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the Dementors – "
"Preposterous! Remove the Dementors! I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the Dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them! They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the Dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth like a fish outside water. He obviously didn't know what to say.
"The second step you must take – and at once – is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge screeched. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late, or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You – you cannot be serious!" Fudge huffed and stepped further away from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants – people hate them Dumbledore – end of my career – "
"You are blinded," Dumbledore's voice was mounting up now, his eyes radiating once more with his inner magical power, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your Dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now – take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside, and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," murmured Fudge, still receding from Dumbledore. "Mad…"
Silence followed. Bill was staring hard at Fudge, thinking that if all Fudge really cared about was his post as Minister of Magic, he might as well stick it up his…
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore steadily, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I – I shall act as I see fit."
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," Fudge said, waving an insolent finger at Dumbledore. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students, without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me – "
"The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."
Fudge swayed on the spot he was standing, twirling his bowler hat in his hands. "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…" he said at last, as if in supplication.
Snape pulled his left sleeve up and stuck his forearm at Fudge, who recoiled. "There," Snape said severely. On his arm, Bill caught a glimpse of something he couldn't recognise. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was, an hour or so ago, when it burnt black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burnt into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing each other, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
Bill gulped. He would have never guessed that Snape had been a Death Eater once. Sure, he had always thought that the Potions Master was particularly mean sometimes back in his school days, but never a Death Eater. And if Dumbledore obviously trusted him enough to give him a job, that was all Bill needed to know.
Fudge retreated from Snape, shaking his head. He stared repulsively at the Mark on Snape's arm, and then talked to Dumbledore. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He went to the door, but before reaching it, turned around and came back up to Harry's bed. "Your winnings," he said presently as he dropped a large bag that he had taken out of his robes' pocket onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but in the circumstances…" He stuffed his bowler hat forcefully into his head and left, banging the door on the way out.
Dumbledore turned to look at the Weasleys and Hermione, with his back to Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. "There is work to be done. Molly…am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," Bill heard his Mum speaking determinedly. He looked at her and was surprised to see that Mrs. Weasley's face was incredibly pale. "He knows what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."
Bill clenched his teeth in anger.
"Then I need to send a message to him. All those that we can persuade of the
truth must be notified immediately, and Arthur is well placed to contact those
at the Ministry who are not as short-sighted as Cornelius."
Bill knew what he had to do. "I'll go to Dad," he said, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent. Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry – "
Bill understood. "Leave it to me."
He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room. Acting as fast as they could was of uttermost importance under their current circumstances.
