A/N: I'm going to say this now, a lot of the scenes in between are directly copied from my e-copy of Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire.
I just felt like those scenes are already so good, and fit well into my story without many edits.
A Song of Lightning and Fire
Arc I: Magic
Part V: The Triwizard Tournament
"What on Earth is going on here?" Dumbledore asked.
"Professor," Harry said in relief. "We just found him like this."
Harry pointed at Mr. Crouch, who was currently happily engrossed in a conversation with a tree. "Yes, Weatherby, exactly," he was saying.
"Oh, my," Dumbledore murmured. "Barty!" He called, receiving no response from the man. "Barty!" He tried again.
"My son got eight OWLs, you know," Crouch said. "Yes, exactly. He is a bright boy, my Barty."
Dumbledore went to Mr. Crouch, and shook him by the shoulder, causing Crouch to swing a fist at him, which Dumbledore expertly dodged.
"Do not make me fight you, Barty," he said. "I just wish to help."
"Warn… Dumbledore," he said, the previous tiredness returning to his face.
"What do you wish to warn me of?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Warn… Dumbledore," he repeated.
"Should we take him to the Hospital Wing," Ginny asked.
"Yes, that would be for the best," Dumbledore agreed.
Dumbledore waved his Wand and conjured a stretcher. He then walked slowly behind Crouch, and pointed his Wand at the back of the man's head, said an apology, and put him under a Sleeping Charm. He placed Crouch's body on the stretcher and the three of them began their walk back to the Castle.
"Forgive an old man's curiosity," Dumbledore said to them. "How did the two of you find yourselves at the Forbidden Forest?"
"We… er," Ginny but her lip, looking at Harry.
"Ah," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "I see. Never mind that then. I'd rather not know."
Did Dumbledore just figure out that they were dating by a single look? Harry thought incredulously.
"What happened to him?" Ginny asked, gesturing to Crouch.
"I cannot pinpoint it," Dumbledore admitted. "But he seems to be having delusions, and he is detached from reality. His mind is… to an extent… broken. It may be because of a rough use of Legilimency, or a prolonged fight against the Imperius Curse, or it may be something I have never even heard of."
A few moments passed in a comfortable silence, which was broken by Dumbledore. "I find this whole scenario rather strange," he said. "Barty has been attending all of his meetings, he has been visiting his wife's grave, it's as though nothing was wrong, but with the way he is now, there is, rather obviously, a different story, perhaps even a much larger and sinister one."
"Do you think someone's impersonating him?" Ginny asked.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "But to imitate someone's mannerisms so perfectly would be a difficult task, not to mention time consuming. If I was a betting man, I'd place my money on someone controlling him using the Imperius Curse."
Harry and Ginny's eyes went wide. "And he may have broken it?" Ginny asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Of that, I am certain. Whatever has happened to him will affect him no longer."
They were near the doors to the Entrance Hall now, and Ginny stopped and clutched Harry's arm. "The Cloak," she said. "Cover Crouch with it."
He did as she asked, and they made their way up to the Hospital Wing in silence. Dumbledore flicked a finger and the doors to the Hospital Wing opened with a creak. They entered the room and Harry took the cloak off of Mr. Crouch's body, causing Madam Pomfrey to gasp.
"What on earth has happened to him?" She asked, immediately levitating Mr. Crouch over to a bed.
"We don't know," Harry, Ginny, and Dumbledore responded.
"I have a feeling his mind has been… broken," Dumbledore offered. "But I cannot be certain."
"It's a good thing none of you Stunned him then," Madam Pomfrey said. "That would have caused his mind to be lost to us."
Dumbledore nodded, and Harry filed that information away for later. If there ever was a time to start practising Legilimency, it was now, Harry thought.
Pomfrey waved her Wand over Crouch a few more times, and watched as Runes came out of it, she inspected each and every one of them, sometimes using a book to guide her.
"His mind is on the verge of breaking," Pomfrey said. "Not quite broken yet, though."
Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief. "Can you heal him?" He asked. Pomfrey glared at him and he held up his hands. "Forgive me."
On any other day, Harry would have burst out laughing at the scene in front of him. Albus Dumbledore being scared of the School Matron… but today… after everything… he just didn't have it in him.
"Perhaps we should hold off further discussion on this topic till another date?" Dumbledore asked, probably noticing Harry's mood.
Harry and Ginny nodded their agreement, and made their way out of the Hospital Wing. "Will you be okay?" She asked.
"I'll try to be," he promised.
She gave him a sad smile and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him. "See you tomorrow?" She asked when they seperated.
"Of course," he replied, smiling.
The next evening, Harry and Ginny made their way towards the Gargoyle outside Dumbledore's Office as he'd requested. They hadn't had an update on Crouch's condition, so it was safe to say that he was still babbling nonsense, and talking to people only he could see. The only reprieve in all of this was that Mr. Crouch's disappearance from the Ministry was being kept under the wraps, meaning not everyone would be looking for him.
Ginny said the password- Cockroach Clusters- and they stepped onto the platform that took them up towards the Headmaster's Office. They stepped off on the landing and made their way towards the door, but stopped short when they heard voices inside.
"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Ludo says Bertha's perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. And it's the same for her disappearance being linked with whatever happened to Barty Crouch!"
"And what do you think happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" Moody's growling voice said.
"I see two possibilities, Alastor," Fudge said. "Either Crouch has finally cracked- more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history- and lost his mind as a result-"
"That would have happened extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly. "You do remember that he was perfectly sane during the meetings we held about the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Or else - well… " Fudge sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll reserve judgement until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the treeline of the Forbidden Forest? We all know Maxime frequents the place because of Hagrid, and I trust that you know what she is, Dumbledore?"
"I consider her to be a very able Headmistress," Dumbledore said. "And a rather brilliant dancer."
"Dumbledore!" Fudge raged.
"Gentlemen," Moody interjected. "Perhaps we can wrap up this discussion for now. Potter and Weasley are here."
The door opened not a moment after Moody's statement, and Dumbledore looked as though he might fall at their feet and start thanking them right now. Moody's face was blank, but he could smell that he was extremely angry. Fudge just looked embarrassed, and he wasn't even bothering to hide it.
"Hello, Potter, Weasley," Moody said, nodding at them. "Come in, then."
Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.
"Ah, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley!" Fudge said jovially, moving forward. "How are you?"
Oh, let's see. In the past 24 hours, they'd found a man whose mind was cracked, watched the man do weird things that creeped them both out, and had the pleasure of being here… they were having a terrible time.
"We're fine," they both said instead of venting their feelings.
"Good, good," Fudge said, nodding. "We were just discussing Barty Crouch. Tragic business. You found him, yes?"
Harry and Ginny nodded, finding it pointless to deny it. "I doubt Madame Maxime did anything," Ginny said.
"Why do you say that?" Fudge asked. Harry couldn't tell if he liked her statement or not.
"She wasn't there," Ginny explained, shrugging.
"She may have hidden," Fudge countered.
Harry snorted. "She'd have a tough job doing that, I reckon," he muttered.
Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing. Dumbledore smiled at him behind Fudge, shaking his head in amusement as Moody was overcome with a coughing fit. Fudge looked even more embarrassed than before.
"Alright there, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked amusedly
"Fine, fine," Moody responded.
"Yes, well," Fudge began. "We're about to go on a bit of a walk around the grounds, so if you could just-"
"Actually, I called them here," Dumbledore interrupted. "They can stay here. Our… walk… won't take long."
They trooped out in silence past him and closed the door. Harry focused on the sound of the clunks of Moody's wooden leg, and after about half a minute or so, Harry heard them growing fainter in the corridor below. He and Ginny looked around.
Fawkes was in a nest under his perch, looking like a baby chicken. The burning day must have been just a few days ago. Harry and Ginny sat down in two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.
For several minutes, they sat in silence and watched the old Headmasters and Headmistresses snoozing in their frames, and Harry thought about what he'd just heard.
"Alright, I guess I'll play the Devil's Advocate," Ginny said. "What if Maxime did meddle with Crouch's mind?"
"What's her motive?" Harry asked.
"A favor with Voldemort?" She asked back.
"I highly doubt she's that stupid," Harry countered.
"Revenge, then?" Ginny asked.
"For what?" Harry asked.
"If I may," one of the Portraits spoke. "I might have a suggestion."
"Go on," Harry said.
"Armando!" Another Portrait exclaimed. "Enough of this! We only help the Headmaster."
"We have strict orders from Albus himself to help any student in need, Phineas," Armando replied calmly. "Those two especially."
Phineas grumbled something and went back to sleep. Harry was surprised at how quickly that happened.
"Crouch was quite ruthless during the First War," Armando said, drawing Harry's attention back to him. "Especially against the Giants. It is possible that one of his laws may have resulted in the deaths of one of her family members in England."
"Well, we've got the motive, I guess," Harry said a few moments later. "Thanks," he added to Armando, who smiled at them and went back to sleep.
It was then that Harry noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on one of Dumbledore's objects. He looked around for the source of the light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind him, whose door had not been closed properly. Harry hesitated, glanced at Ginny, and they both got up, walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door.
A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which looked like they were memories. With a start, Harry realized that the basin was a Pensieve.
"It's a Pensieve," Ginny breathed in awe, probably realizing the same thing he did.
The Silvery substance suddenly started swirling very fast when Harry ran a hand along the rim of the basin, accidentally hitting a Rune.
He drew his hand back, and the silvery substance stopped swirling soon after that. Harry and Ginny went closer to the basin and peered in. The substance was completely transparent now, but instead of seeing the bottom of the basin, they saw an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which they seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.
The room was dimly lit; he thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Lowering his face a bit more, Harry saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards clad in red robes were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very centre of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Harry an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.
"Is that a courtroom?" She asked, peering in next to him.
Harry realized that she was right. It did look like a mediaeval version of the courtroom that Harry and Ginny had been to for Peter Pettigrew's Trial. Harry mentally shook himself to clear the thoughts of that day.
"You might be right about that," he replied.
The room was square, and the Basin was circular, which meant that he couldn't observe much in the corners. So, he moved a little to the side, and his nose touched the surface of the strange substance into which he was seeing.
Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch - Harry was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin. But his head did not hit the stone bottom. He was falling through something icycold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool.
And suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. He looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which he had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.
Breathing hard and fast Harry looked around him. Not one of the witches and wizards in the room was looking at him. Not one of them seemed to have noticed that a fifteen year old boy had just dropped from the ceiling into their midst. Harry turned to the wizard next to him on the bench and uttered a loud cry of surprise that reverberated around the silent room.
He was sitting right next to Albus Dumbledore.
"Professor!" Harry said in a kind of strangled whisper. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet- I-"
He heard another shout above him, and Ginny dropped down in the empty seat next to him. "What the actual Fuck was that?" She asked, breathing heavily.
"I think we may have a bit of a problem here," he told her, glad to see someone that he could talk to.
He saw her look around, seemingly making the same, or similar, conclusions as he had. She raised her hand and waved it energetically in front of Dumbledore, who didn't seem to notice it. She furrowed her brow and tried tugging at his beard.
"Ginny!" Harry cried as her hand went through Dumbledore's body.
"What?" She asked, shrugging a shoulder. "If it would've worked…"
She trailed off when the door in the corner of the Dungeon opened, and two Dementors glided in, holding a man between them. The man looked as though he was about to faint, and Harry couldn't blame him… he knew the dementors could not touch him inside a memory, but he remembered their power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.
Ginny reached for Harry's hand and he squeezed it gently, hoping he could provide some comfort.
Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.
Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Harry and Ginny watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.
"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to Harry's left. Harry looked around and saw Mr. Crouch
standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."
Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair. "I have, sir," he said, and although his voice was very scared, Harry could still hear the familiar
unctuous note in it. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I - I know that The Ministry is trying to - to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can…"
There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Harry heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."
Harry leaned forward so that he could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there- except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.
"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."
Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose. "Ah, I was forgetting… you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?" Moody said with a sardonic smile.
"No," Dumbledore said calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."
"But for filth like this… " Moody said softly.
"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," Mr. Crouch said. "Let us hear them, please."
"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I- I saw him torture countless Muggles and- and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."
"And helped him do it," Moody muttered venomously.
"We have already apprehended Dolohov," Crouch said. "He was caught shortly after yourself."
"Indeed?" Karkaroff said, his eyes widening. "I - I am delighted to hear it!"
But he didn't look delighted. Harry could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless.
"Any others?" Crouch said coldly.
"Why, yes… there was- there was Baverstock," Karkaroff said hurriedly. "Issac Baverstock, everyone knows what horrific things he has done."
"Baverstock is dead," Crouch said. "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."
"Took a bit of me with him, though," Moody whispered to Harry's right. Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.
"No- no more than he deserved!" Karkaroff said, a real note of panic in his voice now.
Harry could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.
"Any more?" Crouch asked.
"Yes!" Karkaroff said. "There was Travers- he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber- he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed You-Know-Who useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"
Harry could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.
"Rookwood?" Mr. Crouch asked, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"
"The very same," Karkaroff said eagerly. "I believe he used a network of well placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information-"
"But Travers and Mulciber we have," Mr. Crouch said. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide-"
"Not yet!" Karkaroff cried, looking quite desperate. "Wait! I have one more!"
"Go on," Crouch said.
"I know for a fact that this person took part in the capture, and by means of the Cruciatus Curse, torture of the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom," Karkaroff said, his voice growing louder as he spoke.
Harry and Ginny looked at each other again. The same question in their eyes: was he talking about Neville's parents?
"The name!" Crouch demanded, a glint in his eye that made him see why everyone was so nervous around him.
"Barty Crouch!" Karkaroff cried, causing several exclamations and denials to go off in the room. "Junior," he added when the voices quieted down.
One could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed that announcement, but the silence didn't last long. A man stood up and ran towards the exit of the courtroom.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Moody and Dumbledore flick their Wands, causing bonds to form around the man's ankles and wrists. The man went sprawling, and the Aurora brought him to his feet and to the front of the room.
"Hello, father," the man- who must have been Barty Crouch Junior- said.
"Is it true?" Crouch whispered, sounding and looking utterly heartbroken.
Crouch Junior just smirked at his father like he was proud of doing that. Mr. Crouch's face hardened, turning fully blank, and revealing nothing. "You are no son of mine," Mr. Crouch said. "Take this filth away!"
"I think you have seen enough," Dumbledore calmly said from beside Harry as Crouch Junior was taken away.
Harry and Ginny turned to him, but Dumbledore just flicked his Wand, and the courtroom gave a massive lurch, sending all three of them spinning up into Dumbledore's Office, where Harry and Ginny fell on their backs, and Dumbledore landed on his feet.
"Curiosity is not a sin," Dumbledore said when they stood up. "But we should be cautious with it, something I am certain you are very well aware of."
"Sorry, sir," Harry said, looking at his feet.
"It won't happen again," Ginny added, shifting a little closer to Harry.
"It's quite alright," Dumbledore said, closing the door to the cupboard. "I myself was quite a curious little boy when I was your age. Please, have a seat," he continued, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk.
Harry and Ginny complied as Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk. "I must apologize," Dumbledore began. "Cornelius insisted on a larger sweep."
"It's okay," Harry and Ginny replied.
"Thank you," Dumbledore bowed his head. "Now, before you got lost in my thoughts, I had called you here to ask what exactly Barty kept muttering about. Alastor feels he might want to tell us something."
"He… er, implied that the sabotaging of the First and Second Tasks were his fault," Harry said, causing Dumbledore's eyebrows to raise.
"Oh?" He asked. "Is that also what he wished to warn me of?"
"Probably," Ginny said, sharing a glance with Harry.
"Interesting," Dumbledore murmured. "When we went to talk to Barty, all he kept mentioning was some person named Weatherby. We think this person might have been there when Barty's mind was meddled with-"
"Yeah, about that," Ginny interrupted. "That might be Percy he's talking about. Crouch calls him Weatherby."
Dumbledore blinked. "Oh," he said. "Well, that saves us from a dead end, I suppose."
"Is there any improvement in his condition?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No," he said. "We have had a few mind healers come in, but so far, they don't have anything conclusive."
"How long will it take them?" Ginny asked.
"Another day or two perhaps," Dumbledore replied with a grimace.
They sat in silence for a while, and Harry let his gaze wander over the Portraits of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the School as he thought about what he'd seen in the Pensieve.
"Sir," Ginny began. "Who's Bertha Jorkins? You and the others were talking about her when we were outside."
Harry racked his brain for a mention of this Bertha Jorkins, and he did remember overhearing the name outside.
Dumbledore's eyebrows raised and lowered as he sighed. "She has played a rather large part in organizing the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore said. "But, unfortunately, she went missing in August. We don't know where, we don't know how, nor do we know why."
"Why hasn't anyone heard of this, then?" Harry asked.
"It is being kept under wraps," Dumbledore said, a bit of his irritation leaking through. Though, from experience, Harry knew it wasn't aimed at them.
"But why?" Ginny asked, frowning.
"Because he feels that the people may panic," Dumbledore explained. "These disappearances remind me of the ones in the Previous War against Voldemort."
"What about her family?" Ginny asked incredulously.
"She doesn't have one," Dumbledore replied. "Not one that we can find, at least."
"That's not an excuse to not tell anyone," Harry said.
"I am aware of that," Dumbledore replied, a small smile on his face. "Unfortunately, I am not the one in charge."
A few more moments passed in silence, and Dumbledore started putting a few memories, and thoughts into his Pensieve. "Professor?" Harry asked.
"Yes?"
"What happened to Barty Crouch in the end?" Harry asked. "The son, not the father."
"Oh, he was sent to Azkaban, as you may have heard," Dumbledore said, turning to him. "Barty Junior… well, he didn't survive Azkaban. He died within three months of his stay. Barty Senior's wife died of a disease and a broken heart not too long after, and Barty Senior was never the same."
A few more moments passed in silence, and Harry was just about to get up and take his leave when Dumbledore spoke again.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I shall say this to you right now, you can feel free to deny it."
Harry nodded for him to go on.
"I need the memory of the night your parents died," Dumbledore said.
Harry blinked in surprise, and he felt as though all the air was sucked out of the room as he involuntarily remembered everything that had happened that day… Her last words to him… the Spell… her Death…
"What reason," Ginny hissed at Dumbledore, her eyes flashing. "Could you possibly have for-"
"I found out how Voldemort stayed alive," Dumbledore interrupted. "He used Soul Magic, specifically the creation of a Horcrux. I have spent all of last year researching this method, and I thought it was a bogus theory at first, after all, the Horcrux is also meant to protect the body of the person. But then I recalled the very first rule of Soul Magic, the more you meddle with a soul, the more detached it becomes to your body. I have a strong feeling that he made more than one, meddled with his soul more than once, which caused his body to be destroyed, while his soul stayed alive, but to prove this theory, to truly know this, I need that memory, Harry."
"Isn't there another way?" Harry asked.
"There might be," he replied, looking down at his desk. "But I do not know of it."
Harry didn't say anything for a long time. Dumbledore began adding more thoughts and memories to the Pensieve. Harry knew Ginny wasn't pleased with the Headmaster for his request, and he knew that the only thing preventing her from ripping into the man was Harry's hand holding hers.
"This will help you the quickest?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore turned to him in surprise, and nodded once. "It will," he said. "Of that I have no doubt."
His decision made, Harry put his Wand to his temple, gently drawing out the memory from his temple. He placed the tip of his Wand against Dumbledore's, and the Headmaster gently placed the memory strand in the Pensieve.
"Thank you," he said to Harry. "And I hope you know that I am extremely sorry for this request."
Harry just nodded in acknowledgement, not really feeling too social right about now.
"Voldemort's getting stronger, isn't he?" Ginny asked. "That's why you're doing all of this now."
Dumbledore looked into the Pensieve. "Yes," he said, prodding the strand with his Wand. "I fear that Bertha Jorkins' is just the first of these disappearances. A Muggle man by the name of Jacob Marki has also been reported missing in Albania. Naturally, the Ministry does not consider this of importance."
Dumbledore shook his head in frustration. "Is there anything else you wish to ask?" He inquired, receiving negative responses from both of them. "Very well, then. I shall go into the Pensieve now. Feel free to come again if you need anything else."
With that, Dumbledore put his Wand into the Pensieve for a few seconds, and was promptly sucked into the basin, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.
Harry was about to turn to go, when he noticed Ginny staring curiously at the Pensieve. He took her hand in his and gently started running his thumb over her knuckles. "You alright?" He asked.
She just absently nodded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "Yeah," she said. "I'm fine."
"You want to see it, don't you?" He asked gently.
She sucked in a breath. "It's okay," he told her, truly meaning it for some reason.
Ginny looked at him incredulously. "It's not!" She hissed. "It's fucked up is what it is. You shouldn't have to be okay with this."
"It's okay to want to know," he said regardless.
She shook her head. "You've already told me what happens. It's enough for me."
"You're sure?" He asked.
"Yes," she said firmly, yet Harry thought she was trying to convince herself along with him.
Either way, he wasn't going to push her.
The Healers did come the very next day, but it took quite a few days for them to actually be able to fix Crouch's mind fully. It was so fragile at that point that fixing it without damaging it further was a task that deserved the Dilys Derwent Award, but sadly, no one would find out about the surgery for a while.
Harry and Ginny entered the Hospital Wing, escorted by Dumbledore himself. No one batted an eye at them as they walked to the back of the Wing, slipping into an Emergency Room, where Mr. Crouch would probably be waiting for them. He'd been moved to St. Mungo's, but he was allowed to come back for today because Dumbledore had asked.
Sure enough, Mr. Crouch was sitting on a chair, observing the castle grounds in the light of the setting sun. "Barty?" Dumbledore asked as they sat down on a sofa in a corner of the room.
The man in question turned around, giving Dumbledore a tired smile. Mr. Crouch looked much better now. His goatee was now neatly trimmed again, and his face was clean, not at all looking like the shabby man he was when Harry and Ginny had found him.
"Dumbledore," Mr. Crouch said with a nod. "It has been too long."
"Indeed," Dumbledore replied.
"What day is it?" He asked.
"The Tenth of June," Dumbledore answered.
Mr. Crouch breathed a sigh of relief. "Then we still have time," he said.
"Time for what?" Dumbledore asked.
"To warn you," Mr. Crouch said, meeting all of their eyes. "All of you."
"Warn us about what?" Harry asked.
"You Know Who is alive," Mr. Crouch said.
Mr. Crouch looked at all of them seriously, probably expecting a huge reaction, but Harry, Ginny, and Dumbledore just exchanged glances with each other.
"How do you know this, Barty?" Dumbledore finally asked.
Mr. Crouch just blinked. "You already knew?" He asked back. "You… I don't understand."
"We have known for a few years," Dumbledore told him. "But that is not important now-"
"Not important!?" Crouch cried.
"Barty," Dumbledore calmly interjected. "Please, I shall talk with you about it later. For now, please, tell us what you wanted to warn us about."
Crouch took a deep breath. "Voldemort is the one who's been sabotaging the Tournament," he said, confirming what the three of them already suspected. "He used my son to help him."
"Your son?" Dumbledore asked, raising his eyebrows. "Barty?"
"I am sorry," Crouch said to him. "You must understand. It was her dying wish."
"What was it?" Dumbledore pressed.
"She wanted me to break Barty out of Azkaban," Crouch said. "So… I did. She was already dying… all I needed to do was Transfigure them into each other. I kept Barty under an Imperius Curse, asking Winky to cloth, feed, and bath him… he grew resentful. He hated me. And then, one day… he must have escaped… but he was free of the Curse, and he had a snake on his shoulders… he put me under an Imperius Curse, and used my position to sabotage the tasks."
Crouch paused for a sip of water, and that gave Harry a moment to think about all of this. All of this fighting, all of this suffering, the Deaths of half a dozen Merfolk… all because one person had fucked up.
"He delved into my mind," Crouch continued. "Learning each and every little detail about me, leaving me weak, and more submissive to the Imperius Curse. He kept me hidden, Transfigured himself into me, and used my position in the Ministry for his own ends. Like making the Hungarian Horntail smell a flower that causes it to be far more aggressive than it usually is, or like managing to put a Leviathan in the Black Lake to kill the Mer and the Champions, learning more about the Tournament itself… all of it was him."
A silence fell over them, both awkward and uncomfortable. Harry glanced to his left and saw that Dumbledore was looking at Crouch with a disappointed expression, and Ginny had a frown on her face.
"Why, though?" Ginny asked, causing the rest of them to turn their heads to her.
"Pardon?" Crouch asked.
"Why?" Ginny asked. "Why would he sabotage the tasks?"
"Voldemort had always enjoyed chaos," Dumbledore said. "He was also known to demonstrate said chaos on a big stage. The Triwizard Tournament is an opportunity to do that, and I sincerely doubt that he would miss out on such an opportunity."
"Normally, I would have agreed with your assessment," Crouch said. "But I know that he has done this simply as a test."
"A test?" Harry and Ginny repeated incredulously.
"For who?" Ginny continued.
"The Champions?" Harry offered.
"No," Crouch said, looking at them seriously. "It is a test for the two of you."
Harry and Ginny's jaws dropped open, and even Dumbledore couldn't hide his surprise too well. "I don't understand," Harry said. "Voldemort wants to… test us? Why?"
"I do not know that," Crouch said. "But this is all that I have been able to gather in my time in his captivity."
"What about the Third Task?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward. "Does he plan to sabotage it?"
"He plans on getting Potter and Weasley to his hideout," Crouch said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "Barty did mention that he would make a Portkey out of the Triwizard Cup."
Dumbledore blinked. "We can always switch the Cup in favor of something else," he said.
Mr. Crouch nodded. "I shall be sure to bring it up in the next meeting."
Dumbledore and Crouch kept on talking a little more, but Harry didn't listen to their conversation, too engrossed in thoughts of his own. This couldn't be happening, not now. It was just too much. He'd been hoping that Voldemort wouldn't return until Harry was older, more trained, and better prepared for a fight. He would surely lose if he faced off against him now. Not to mention the fact that Ginny would also be in just as much trouble as he was. All because he couldn't stop himself from needing her help four years ago…
Harry stood up and said a hasty goodbye, opening the door and running out of the room, and the Hospital Wing. He was aware of footsteps behind him, but he didn't care.
He only stopped when a giant Nine Tailed Fox jumped over him, landing nimbly on her feet in front of him. The Fox turned into Ginny, who just stared at him with a hard, blazing look for a few seconds before they both closed the distance between them, grabbing the other in a searing, desperate kiss. It was then that Harry knew she was just as worried about him as he was about her.
She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a nearby broom closet, pinning him against the wall as he took her shirt off and threw it away. She undid his trousers and her hand slipped down the waistband of his boxers, gripping his erection and slowly stroking it…
Needless to say, they didn't come out for a while.
The first thing they did when they exited the broom closet was start a walk back to the Hospital Wing. Harry felt much better now, and he blushed when he thought about the reason for it.
"Thinking about a good time, are we?" Ginny asked, smirking as she nudged him with her elbow.
Harry knew his face had managed to turn redder somehow, but he still wasn't going to get flustered by her teasing. "So maybe I am," he said, shrugging a shoulder, and trying to smirk. He leaned in close to her ear. "I didn't hear you complaining when I repaid that favor," he whispered.
This time, it was her that blushed, and he knew that she wasn't going to be flustered by it either. "What can I say?" She replied. "You're good with your fingers."
He snorted. It had been their first time doing that, and Harry was surprised at how… willing they both were. Despite the circumstances, Harry thought it was brilliant, and judging by the expression on her face, Ginny did too.
They reached the Hospital Wing, and went towards the Emergency Room. Harry wanted to apologize for his abrupt departure, and he hoped that Crouch and Dumbledore were still here.
He opened the door, and froze on the spot.
Mr. Crouch was lying on the bed, his body convulsing as blood poured out of his slit throat. He was making a gurgling sound, and Harry almost gagged at the sound of it. Harry absently noticed that the window was open as he turned to the door.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Harry yelled.
Madam Pomfrey ran into the room, and to her credit, did not freeze. She immediately rushed towards the bed and tried to stop the bleeding as Harry and Ginny ran to the open window.
They had found that they could see a bit more clearly in the night now than they could before, thanks to their Animagus abilities, so he let his gaze wander over the moonlit grounds, trying to spot any sign of an intruder.
All he saw, however, was a Hawk flying away into the distance.
A/N 2: For those of you who are confused: No, Harry and Ginny did not shag.
Also, if you couldn't tell, from the scene where Harry and Ginny visit Dumbledore's office, to the scene where Dumbledore goes into the Pensieve, there are a lot of paragraphs that I took directly from Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. They aren't mine.
Thank you so much for reading, please leave a review if you enjoyed it and have the time to do so. I'll see you in the next one!
Byee!!