Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Did that throw you off? Nope? Didn't think so.

Chapter 67

The next half hour passed in such a blur that Harry found himself wondering if he had ever let go of the Portkey. He vaguely recalled Hermione slamming into him once he returned to the entrance of the maze, only to cry out in pain as her rib-crushing hugs finally lived up to their name. He had no recollection of staggering to the Hospital Wing with the help of Hermione and Sirius; he needed to hear the story from them to even attempt to remember that part of the evening. He barely remembered slumping into a bed in the Hospital Wing, gasping for breath and coughing up blood every second while Hermione sobbed at his bedside, clutching his hand with both of hers. It wasn't until Madam Pomfrey finished treating him that she revealed that the rib he had broken after being attacked by Lucius Malfoy had punctured his lung.

Eventually, the Hogwarts Matron had dumped enough doses of Skele-Gro and Pepper-Up Potion down his throat that he could sit up straight and think clearly without being blinded by pain. He managed to give Hermione, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks his best shot at a reassuring smile as he pressed his back against the headboard. Hermione quickly clambered out of her chair and hopped onto his bed, sitting cross-legged by his side.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered, taking his hand once again. Harry finally got a good look at her face now that he was no longer disoriented. Her eyes were redder and puffier than he could ever recall, and her hair was all over the place as if she had been nervously running her hands through it for some time. He could even see fingernail marks on her cheeks from where she had been clutching it in fear.

"I'm fine."

"Try again," She said expectantly. He took a deep breath and looked down at his body, which was lying atop the crisp sheets of his cot. The gash on his arm had been reduced to a thin red line, and his ribcage seemed to have been healed completely as he had no trouble breathing. The only problem was that most of his body was still trembling. Every few seconds one of his limbs would spasm uncontrollably, sending bolts of pain across his entire body, but otherwise he had recovered well enough.

"It still hurts a bit," He admitted in a small voice. Hermione gave a sad smile and snaked her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder and burrowing into him as much as possible. "It's alright," He tried to appease her, lifting a shaky hand to pat her on the arm. "I'm back. I told you I would come back."

"You scared me so much," She whispered, squeezing him tighter. "When your dot disappeared off the map, I…I lost it. I thought you had died."

"She really did lose it," Tonks smirked. "Screamed bloody murder she did. Plus," she rolled up her sleeve to reveal a nasty purple bruise on her forearm, "that's what I got for trying to hold her back, to keep her from running into the maze after you."

Hermione squeaked in embarrassment and buried her face in the crook of Harry's neck. Harry got the most peculiar feeling of déjà vu, but he could not quite place it.

"What happened, Harry?" Lupin finally asked.

"He's back," Harry said in a hoarse voice. "Voldemort. He's back."

The effect of those simple phrases was instantaneous. Lupin's expression remained its usual neutral self, but his hand began clutching the back of a nearby chair in a white-knuckled grip. Tonks collapsed into the same chair, her hair transforming from its usual pink self to a mousy brown color in seconds as her eyes widened in horror. Sirius remained deadly still; for a few seconds Harry thought the Marauder had been petrified.

"How do you know?" He asked suddenly, and Harry was taken aback at how close his godfather's voice was to breaking.

"The Cup was a Portkey," Harry said feebly. "It took me to a graveyard. I was sprinting when I grabbed the trophy, so I landed on it funny…I broke a few ribs when I landed and blacked out."

He instinctively ran a hand over his now healed ribcage, and Hermione quickly placed her hand on top of it and laced their fingers together.

"I woke up and I was tied to a grave," Harry continued. "Tom Riddle's grave…Voldemort's father. Wormtail was there," Sirius's eyes flashed dangerously at that, "and he took my blood for some sort of potion. Some sort of ritual. And he used it to bring Voldemort back to life."

Harry shook his head as if willing the memories of the night away. "He's back. He has his body back because of my blood…" His voice faltered as a cold, miserable feeling washed over him, cutting at his insides. "It's my –"

"No!" Sirius roared, moving from the foot of Harry's bed to the side that Hermione wasn't on. He crouched so that he was eye-level with Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, don't you dare say that it was your fault. Don't even think it, alright? This…" He gestured to Harry's quivering body, "this is a load of rotten luck that had to happen to you. You are not at fault here, alright?"

"Who is, then?" Harry protested weakly.

"Barty Crouch," A voice said from the doorway. Harry whipped his head around and saw none other than Albus Dumbledore standing there, his expression one of deadly seriousness. "Junior," He added rather dramatically.

"Professor," Hermione blurted in surprise.

"Miss Granger," The old wizard greeted her. "Nymphadora, Sirius, Remus," He continued as he began to walk towards Harry's bed. Harry was reminded of the aftermath of his encounter with Professor Quirrell, when the Headmaster had met Harry in the Hospital Wing. Hermione had been sitting by his side that day, too. This time, however, there was no cheerful twinkle in the old man's eye.

"Harry," He said softly as he reached his bed. He snapped his fingers and conjured chintz armchairs for everyone that was still standing. "May I sit here?" Harry nodded slowly. Dumbledore took a seat, as did Sirius and Lupin. "I have just returned from the office of Alastor Moody, interrogating the individual who has been posing as your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since the first day of school." Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I hope you're comfortable, Harry, because there will be a lot of explaining done tonight."

As he instinctively snaked an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder, Harry decided he was as comfortable as he could hope for.

Dumbledore proceeded to explain what had happened once Harry had been whisked away from the maze via Portkey. He informed Harry that after his dot disappeared from the maze, Lupin took the map from Hermione while she proceeded to panic. The lycanthrope had brought the map down to Dumbledore at the judges' table and shown him that Harry was no longer in the maze.

According to Dumbledore, as they examined the map, they also noticed that one of the dots patrolling the perimeter of the maze was labeled Barty Crouch instead of Alastor Moody. Dumbledore then instructed Hagrid and Professor Flitwick to extract the remaining champions from the maze while he, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape proceeded to corner the impostor.

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as Dumbledore explained that the three of them learned through the use of Veritaserum that Alastor Moody had been kidnapped on the last day of August, and since then Barty Crouch Junior – convicted Death Eater and presumed dead – had been impersonating the retired Auror through the use of Polyjuice Potion. The Headmaster then explained that Crouch, at the instruction of Voldemort himself, placed Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire and subtly guided him through the Triwizard Tournament so that he would be the first person to touch the Triwizard Cup, which would serve as a Portkey to bring him directly to the Dark Lord.

When he explained that the intention was for Voldemort to use Harry's blood to resurrect himself and then proceed to kill Harry for all of his Death Eaters to witness, Hermione let out a sob and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

"Where is Crouch now?" Sirius asked, and Harry could see the veins in his godfather's neck throbbing as he clenched his jaw.

"He is being guarded in Professor Moody's office by Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore answered calmly. Sirius moved to get out of his chair but Dumbledore held up a hand. "If I may, I would strongly suggest you refrain from leaving this Hospital Wing to murder Barty. Not only does your godson need you here, but the death of the lone active Death Eater we have in custody will prevent him from testifying to the world that Lord Voldemort is alive and, unfortunately, quite well."

Sirius slowly relaxed, slumping back in his chair, but Harry could see his godfather's eyes darting to the door every few seconds.

"So, Harry," Dumbledore turned back to him, his eyes imploring, "is there merit to Barty's claims? Has Voldemort returned?"

"Yes sir," Harry nodded slowly. "He's back."

"I see," Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. "If I may, Harry, I would like to know what happened tonight when you left the maze. That, to me, is of the utmost importance."

"Surely that can wait until morning!" Sirius protested. "Dumbledore, please, look at him! He's still shaking!"

"I understand that Harry has been through a great deal," Dumbledore said, and Harry sensed genuineness in his tone. "Truly, I do. The bravery you exhibited tonight, Harry, exceeds that of nearly every witch and wizard that is alive today, in my opinion. But we must know as soon as possible what happened tonight if we are to properly defend ourselves, because Voldemort is sure to attempt to rise to power as soon as possible."

Harry was torn. He very much agreed with Sirius; the prospect of getting a good night's sleep and waiting until the morning to recount the horrors of the graveyard was preferable. At the same time, however, he wanted to help get the word out that Voldemort had returned as quickly as possible.

"Professor?" Hermione cleared her throat rather meekly. "If, if I may?" She lifted her head from Harry's shoulder.

"Of course, Miss Granger," Dumbledore nodded.

"Well," She began, glancing at Harry before quickly averting her eyes, "I've read, in Hogwarts: A History," Harry barely subdued a snort of laughter, "that the founders of Hogwarts, according to legend, found a Pensieve half-buried in the ground here. The legend states that this discovery is why they decided to build the castle here. That same Pensieve has been passed down from Headmaster to Headmaster since the establishment of the school, correct?"

"The very same Pensieve sits in my office now," Dumbledore smiled fondly, drumming his fingers together as he flickered his eyes between Harry and Hermione. "An interesting thought, Miss Granger. It would prevent Harry here from verbalizing tonight's events and invoking any pain associated with the memories. It would also allow us to learn what happened tonight as soon as possible." He paused, tapping his chin a few times. "I suppose you are referred to as the Brightest Witch of Your Age for a reason," He added, amused.

Hermione blushed, and Harry couldn't help but smirk.

"A fine idea," Dumbledore pushed himself out of his chair and waved his wand. A flask was conjured out of thin air, and he promptly removed the stopper. "Harry, do you know what a Pensieve does?"

"Hermione gave me the gist once," He admitted. "I think. Sometimes she just rambles about Hogwarts: A History and I just try to keep up."

Hermione's blush deepened, but Harry's comments seemed to lighten the mood considerably as all of the adults chuckled. Tonks's hair even returned to its usual pink self as she stood up, followed by Sirius and Lupin.

"Very well," Dumbledore threw Harry a reassuring smile. "I am going to extract your memory of tonight's events, if you agree to it. This will enable myself and others to view what happened tonight down to the most precise details. It will be a tremendous help in determining what parts of Barty Crouch's story is factual, as well as serve as the first step in preparing our defenses against what are sure to be rising dark forces."

"You can take the memory," Harry nodded. He saw Tonks flash him a thumbs-up and a wink from behind Dumbledore's back. "Professor, after you take the memory, I'd like to sleep if that's alright?" Harry half stated, half asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"You've earned it, Harry," He said sincerely.

In the ensuing days Harry spent in the Hospital Wing, Sirius rarely left the chair by his bedside and Hermione rarely left his bed, no matter how much teasing she and Harry got from Sirius because of it. He had several visitors, including various teachers, every member of the Gryffindor Gang, Luna and Ginny, the Weasley twins, and the Chasers on the Quidditch team. The best part about each visit was that every single one of them insisted that they believed Harry, because during the days he spent lying in bed with Hermione and talking with Sirius he learned quite a bit of unsettling information.

"Fudge doesn't believe that Voldemort's back?" Harry frowned one morning.

"Well, I think he actually might believe it," Sirius shrugged. "But he's not going to reveal that to the public. Fudge cares more about his public image than anything; he wants to be seen as strong and infallible, like Dumbledore is. My exoneration was a pretty big blow to his image, because he was one of the people present for my arrest and then I was acquitted under his tenure as Minister. He's now going to do everything in his power to be seen as a strong leader, and that includes pretending that everything is fine and that Voldemort isn't back."

"That's stupid," Hermione spat, a disgusted expression on her face. "Doesn't he know he'll be seen as weaker once everyone realizes he's been lying?"

"Unlike you, Lily – sorry, Hermione, honest mistake," the wink Sirius sent at Harry told signaled that it was not a mistake in the slightest, "unlike you, Fudge is not thinking logically. His mind has already been warped by fear and his thought process is skewed by his desire to be seen in a good light. He already is paranoid that Dumbledore is after his job –"

"You're joking!" Harry protested.

"I wish I was," Sirius shook his head. "Fudge is now so deluded that he thinks Dumbledore is trying to take the position of Minister for himself. He has already taken to calling both you and Dumbledore liars and is having inflammatory stories about you two printed in the Daily Prophet as we speak."

"That's libel!" Hermione gasped, grabbing Harry's arm protectively. "He can't seriously do that to Harry, can he?"

"He can," Sirius nodded. "Right now, Cornelius Fudge is doing everything in his power to convince the public that Voldemort is not back. He refused to view Harry's memory, despite Dumbledore urging him to do so, most likely so that he can have deniability if the truth ever does come out. He claimed that the memory was either forged or that Harry was simply delusional."

Hermione let out a low growl, and Harry could see her eyes darkening with rage.

"Well, don't we have Barty Crouch Junior?" Harry suggested. "He'll have to be sent back to Azkaban; Dumbledore can organize a sort of hearing for it and Crouch can testify that he had been following the instructions of Voldemort. Fudge won't be able to deny that, and he can't stop Dumbledore from holding a hearing because Dumbledore's Chief Warlock."

Sirius let out his longest sigh yet, and Harry felt his stomach plummet. "Fudge, when he learned that a Death Eater was in the castle, decided he needed adequate protection if he were to question him."

"Did he get Tonks?" Harry asked. "I mean, she's an Auror after all."

"That would have been the logical thing to do," Sirius frowned. "But no, once again, Fudge managed to fudge it up. He brought in a dementor, and as soon as that foul creature was in the same room as Crouch, it gave Barty the Kiss and rendered him unable to testify."

Harry groaned, flopping down onto his back as dejection washed over him. He heard Hermione let out a long sigh as she took his hand and began rubbing circles on the back of his hand. "Who has seen the memory, then?" He asked.

"Myself," Sirius answered, "along with Dumbledore, Moony, Tonks, McGonagall, and Snivellus. We are the only people who have seen it, but we have taken it upon ourselves to inform several others about its contents."

"Like who?" Harry sat up straighter, intrigued. Sirius paused, his eyes darting between Harry and the door to Madam Pomfrey's office. After a few seconds, he drew his wand and cast a few Privacy Charms around the bed and moved his chair closer to Harry.

"Nothing much has been set in stone yet, so there's not much I can tell you," He said in a low voice. "But what I can tell you, the two of you can't say a word to anyone else, alright?"

"Alright," Harry and Hermione whispered in unison. Sirius flashed them a proud smile.

"Have either of you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

A few days later, Harry and Hermione were leaning against the sandstone walls of the Hogwarts entrance hall. The rest of the Hogwarts student body milled about around them, lugging trunks and cages as they clambered out towards the carriages that would take them to the Hogsmeade platform, to the Hogwarts Express.

"Do you have any plans with the coolest dentists in the world yet?" Harry smirked, absent-mindedly waving goodbye to Katie Bell as she walked past.

"Nothing exciting," Hermione admitted. "So far, all we've got planned is a dental checkup tomorrow morning."

Harry snorted, earning himself a half-hearted swat on the shoulder. "No spontaneous holidays to France this summer?" He teased. "There is a mass murderer after me, you know."

"Yes, well," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I think the circumstances are a bit different this time around, don't you think?"

"Just a bit," He grinned.

"I would like to go back to Cannes someday, though," Hermione mused, leaning into Harry's side a bit as she spoke. "I have quite a few happy memories there. Sometimes I miss those days…when it felt like you and I being together was the only thing that mattered in the world."

"I know how you feel," Harry let out a wistful sigh. "Maybe I'll take you there after we graduate. How does that sound?"

"Harry…" She mumbled, blushing furiously. "Is now really the best time to be all romantic and sweet?"

"Yes, I think it is," He shrugged nonchalantly. "I have to squeeze it all in the next few hours, because we're eventually going to have to say good-bye at King's Cross. And no matter how long you try and snog me on the platform, your parents are going to drag you back home at some point, kicking and screaming."

"You're incorrigible," She shook her head in mock vexation, but Harry could see her biting her bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her smile, along with a familiar glitter in her eyes.

"I love you too," He fired back in a lilting voice.

"Oh, that's it," Hermione huffed, pivoting so that Harry was trapped between her and the wall.

"Can't wait until the platform?" He teased just before her lips were on his, forcing his head to awkwardly press against the hard surface of the wall.

"Get a room, Potter!" He heard Angelina Johnson snicker as she walked past, but neither of the snogging teenagers paid her any mind. "Now that's my champion…" The Chaser added for good measure as she continued walking. Harry responded by shooing her off with his hand, never truly diverting his attention away from the girl in front of him until someone cleared their throat particularly loudly.

"'Arry!"

He reluctantly pulled away from a disappointed Hermione and saw Fleur Delacour standing expectantly, a knowing smile on her face. Over her shoulder, he could see the Beauxbatons carriage preparing to take off. "Hi, Fleur," He said, trying to mask his heavy breathing.

"'Ello, 'Arry. 'Ermione," She beamed at the two of them. Hermione blushed as Fleur winked at her. "We are leaving soon, but I wanted to say goodbye and let you know zat it was a pleasure to befriend you zis year."

"Same to you," Harry smiled. He felt one of Hermione's hands leave his hair and take refuge in one of his hands.

"We will meet again, I 'ope," Fleur continued. "I am 'oping to get a job here to eemprove my Eenglish. But, in ze meantime," she held out a piece of paper that Harry hesitantly took in his free hand. "Zis is ze address of where I spend my summers. You have an owl, no?"

"Yeah," Harry nudged Hedwig's cage, which was on the floor by his feet. "I'll write to you?"

"And I shall write back," The Beauxbatons champion smiled. "Au revoir, you two!" She added with a wink before kissing Harry's cheek and departing. Once she was out of sight he turned back to Hermione, who was trying hard not to scowl.

"You're very cute when you're possessive."

"Shut up," She huffed, picking up Crookshanks' carrier from off the ground. "My irrational desire to keep you all to myself aside, I actually think it's a good thing that you and Fleur – and by default Fleur and I – have made friends with each other. The whole point of the Triwizard Tournament is to further international magical relations and understanding, after all."

"Fair enough," Harry shrugged as he crouched down and used the Shrinking Charm to reduce his trunk down to a size that could fit in his pocket.

"Plus," Hermione continued as she performed the same spell on her trunk, "there's a proverb from an African king that I think is quite fitting for such a friendship, especially during a time like this."

"What is it?" Harry asked as he pocketed his trunk and grabbed his Firebolt and Hedwig's cage.

"In times of crisis," Hermione said as she stood up straight and began walking side by side with Harry towards the doors, "the wise build bridges and the foolish build barriers. It's nice don't you think?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, repeating the words in his head. "I like that. We ought to cooperate and help one another to face this problem, rather than try and divide ourselves over petty differences, right?"

"Exactly," Hermione beamed at him. "We know that only certain people will choose to believe you and Dumbledore, so we have to build bridges between ourselves, not barriers."

"Brilliant," Harry grinned, earning himself a quick kiss. "Shall we?"

"I suppose we shall," Hermione smiled back. The two of them descended the castle's stone steps and quickly met up with their fellow fourth-year Gryffindors, who were equally determined to enjoy their last few hours before the summer began.

A/N: I know this is a short chapter, especially considering the amount of time it took to publish, but truth be told this is not a chapter I was looking forward to. It's hard to inject any sort of fluff into this part of canon, but it had to be done. I'm asking you all to bear with me because the next chapter will be fluffy, and should not take nearly as long to publish. This chapter just had to happen. I couldn't exactly dive into the summer headfirst without explaining the aftermath of the graveyard, as well as pave the path for a Harry that's not going to be left entirely in the dark this time around.

Anyway, references! Does it count if I reference my own story? I don't know, but the déjà vu Harry gets in the Hospital Wing when Tonks shows him the bruise that Hermione gave her was inspired by Hermione attempting to murder Lockhart in Chapter 18: The Quidditch Resistance, in which Alicia Spinnet has to hold Hermione back and earns herself an enormous bruise on her forearm much like Tonks's. Also, yeah, the disclaimer is from the opening lyrics of Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. Lastly, and much more seriously, Hermione's proverb is my version of a tribute to Chadwick Boseman, the incredibly talented and charismatic author that passed away recently. His performances as icons like Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall, and the fictional but nonetheless inspiring T'Challa of Black Panther deserve the highest of praises. The proverb that Hermione offers is a quote from King T'Challa at the end of Black Panther, when he takes it upon himself to open up the fictional nation of Wakanda to the rest of the world.