I was glaring at a hedge for almost an hour before the first sparks were sent up. My heart was in my throat and I couldn't take my eyes off those who were sent in to fetch the felled champion. No future knowledge would help here. Events unfolded the way they did before only because Moody/Crouch's intervention with an imperious curse. Now it was all up to fate. The very first to get out of the running was Cedric Diggory. I was guiltily relieved. I knew that without Crouch or Winky he wasn't likely to die in such a task but to see him back, safe, being embraced by his father...some hidden tension in me eased and I breathed a bit easier. But children were still inside that death trap and I kept my silent vigil keeping an eye on the wards as I did. Any use of dark magic nearby would ding on my radar. If Moody/Crouch had left behind an imperious-ed sleeper soldier of sorts to attack students then I would feel it and tear them to pieces.

The next out was Krum, leaving only Fleur and Harry. Krum was taking the loss with good grace, his headmaster not so much. Karkaroff was already calling out Hogwarts as a whole for having two champions and braying about the unfairness to his own school. Krum nudged him none too gently and words were spoken before the dark school's' headmaster stormed back to his seat. Fleur was out next, and she was only just being extracted from the maze when I felt it, the tug of a portkey through the wards. I had been leaning listlessly against Hagrid, Hermione pressed against my other side, the girl attempting to share some body heat. I shot up, ignoring the cold, shoving the pain away, eyes wide.

"The wards."

The two didn't understand what I meant, but the obvious distress in my voice was enough to worry them. Hermione put a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me back into my seat.

"Professor, you're going to hurt yourself. What's wrong?"

I picked Dumbledore out of the crowd, he was speaking with Diggory and his father at the first row of the stands. He hadn't noticed. Sirius was standing beside the two but not paying attention, instead watching the maze intently, probably dreading the sight of red sparks. I tried to push past Hagrid to get to the stairs, unsure of what exactly I was going to tell the Headmaster but positive I had to try. Could Harry survive without the ghost of Cedric? Was that in the book or the movie, anyway? Was it likely to be real here? Who enchanted the damn portkey?

Hagrid attempted to stop me, putting a large, heavy hand on my shoulder, Hermione, Ron, and all of the other Gryffindors were watching me, concerned. I threw his hand off, taking off the outer cloak so I had better range of movement, shivering violently with the influx of cold air on my already chilled body.

Hagrid made another grab for me,

"Mara, what're yeh-"

"THE WARDS, it's the Wards! They've been breached! He's off the grounds, he's been taken!"

I didn't have to specify who, they blanched as one, and I launched myself over one of the benches, briefly reminded of Extreme parkour from the 32nd century. I pushed it aside just as I rushed through the crowd, whatever expression was on my face causing those who saw it to pale and back out of my way. Others were unceremoniously shoved, either with hand or magic. The edge of the stands was a several foot tall drop to where the headmasters, various teachers, judges, and champions were located. I ignored it, not stopping in my dead run, planting my right hand on the edge of it, ignoring Minerva to my right as she made to grab me, Severus on her other side looking outright surprised for the first time in my experience with him. I launched myself in the air, twisting my hand so it swung my body around to face Dumbledore and Sirius, releasing with my right hand at the last second and landing in a crouch, left hand touching to ground to stabilize me. Those in front of me started, not used to seeing me move with a purpose.

"Harry's left the grounds."

I straightened up, bringing forward my left hand and calling forwards the blue strings of magic that held together the wards, zooming in on the tiny fracture the portkey had exited through. I grimly looked up at Dumbledore, ignoring everyone else around us as well as the voice in my head saying that lying down to sleep for eternity would be a good idea.

"Can you track the signature and drag him back?"
I shook my head,

"I could bring back whatever dragged him out, but if he isn't in contact anymore then it only takes away his chance of escape."

"Could you follow it?"
I tilted my head, casting my eyes back down to the model, bringing my now lightly bleeding right hand up to twirl through the strings, tossing aside lights and inputting sequences and codes at near incomprehensible speeds, glad as hell for the reflex training we'd gotten from Strax after the incident with the hand grenades and the seven memory slugs.

"I could attempt it. If the enchantment was to only bring him, or to only let in a certain thing then I could at best be rebounded somewhere near there, or back here. At worst I would be left in the void in between destinations."

Mr. Diggory (Sr) scoffed,

"And what is that nonsense?"

I had no time for bullshit. I turned an icy gaze on him,

"When you apparate, you feel like you're being pulled through a tube? You are. It's the place between places. Floo network? Same concept. Portkey? Same concept. There is no instantaneous appearance elsewhere, it is travel through a second, shorter, medium."

That said I tuned him out completely, turning back to Dumbledore.

"I'll try to follow."

I reached through the hole in the wards, searching for the magical signature left behind by the portkey. It was fading already. I grabbed for it, and yanked. I was pulled forwards, black and tombstones and humans flashing before my eyes before I hit the dirt. I jerked to my feet the next half second later, way too many memories of bad TARDIS landings surging to the forefront of my mind. I was still beside Dumbledore. I growled in frustration.

"I saw a graveyard and gathering of people in black, but I was unable to land, wards must have gone up to guard against entrance."

Mr. Diggory cut in once again.

"Well don't just stand there then woman, go call for the Aurors! What were you thinking anyway, following the boy? You would just have been killed, don't you remember what happened at the World Cup?"

My face pulled into an unconscious sneer,

"Four on one was a little unfair in that case."

Before I could flay him alive Dumbledore cut in,

"I have called for the Aurors already, Mister Weasley, if you could contact your superiors?"
Percy nodded, pale but not panicking, sending a silvery patronus flying off. I reached for the wards once more, trying to feel the path again only to feel a surge of incoming magic. Four minutes and twenty seconds. An impressive amount of time to get away from Voldemort. If he was alive still. Harry hit the ground just where I calculated he would, and because of that I made it to him first, turning him over and checking for wounds as he began talking.

"He's back! Voldemort's back!"

The sentiment behind it chilled me slightly. Another madman to deal with. And this was definitely not the good kind that came with a blue box. I pulled Harry to his feet, already not liking the look of the cut on his arm that must have been where the blood from the ritual was taken. People rushed to ask questions and I straightened as much as I could while helping the teenager stand, giving them a glare based on one that made Kings, Emperors, and self proclaimed 'gods' shiver a bit and take note that the Doctor wasn't the only one in the room they should be wary of. Because while the Doctor was fearsome, he had rules. Me, well, I wasn't nearly as against poison as a problem solver.

"He can answer your questions just fine from the infirmary. Right now he needs to get this seen to."

There was no argument, though Mr. Diggory looked pissed at me. I didn't give a flying fuck about him, he didn't even know what he could have lost. Madame Pomfrey was at our side and running scans before we even got off the field, and Sirius took Harry from me, letting the teen lean against him instead. I didn't let myself show too much relief. I couldn't let my control slip even for a second or it would crash down completely. I saw the Gryffindors in Harry's year as well as the Twins trying to push through the crowd, still attempting to follow me. Ha, good luck with that. Running of all kinds is an art form when one has traveled with the Doctor. Through crowds, buildings, starsystems, didn't matter. If we didn't want to be caught or stopped we wouldn't be. Companions to the Doctor got where they were going. The kids had no such experience, though Hermione was doing a surprisingly good job of shoving idiots out of her way with impunity.

By the time we made it to the infirmary Harry was a bit less pale, though Sirius looked worse if possible, worry clouding his face. Harry told his story and answered questions while he was patched up and I stood at the edge of the crowd, back military straight and trying to think of who the hell could be working for Voldemort within the castle.

Karkaroff wasn't a possibility because of his stint as a rather public snitch, and Snape was just as unlikely though for different reasons. Smaller conversations and arguments had broken out after the story was told, I'm assuming the same save for Cedric's absence, I wasn't exactly listening through my musing. He apparently hadn't played as much of a part in the actual action as I had assumed if things managed to turn out much the same way. Harry would have been emotionally torn apart by the death, and now he just looked worried over the implications of Voldemort's return and slightly shaken from the fight, excitement and pain. The thought of pain brought forth the memory of him leaving out that he'd been under some form of cruciatus as far as I'd heard, when Voldemort made contact with him at the very least. Poppy hadn't checked for it. Had it been left out this time? I examined him intently from a distance. Sirius was arguing with someone about something and Harry had taken the chance away from his mothering to sag against the pillows, trembling slightly. No, shivering. I glowered at the floor before pushing forwards, dancing around the people easily and grabbing an armful of quilts that were usually mine during my frequent visits. I marched up to Harry and started wrapping them around him, glancing at Poppy,

"The Seventh mixture I should think."

Our jointly written book on fighting the residual effects of dark spells such as the cruciatus had several concoctions from special hot chocolate to legitimate potions. Mixture number seven didn't have a name yet. It was for those freshly cursed with the cruciatus. It would reduce the current effects and eliminate long term ones. Her skin tone dropped by at least two shades.

"Oh dear."

She rocketed out of the room and to her office, everyone else stopping and taking notice of us. I waved my wand over the bed,

"Tueri contra, ne nimium dolor, prohibere tenebris-"

Mr. Diggory pushed to the front, grabbing my wrist to stop the spell casting.

"That's enough! Who do you think you are ordering around the Medi-witch and casting spells on a patient?! You should be thrown out for your insolence, she had it well in hand!"

I ripped my wrist away, taking a step forwards and stared him down, ignoring the physics of the fact that he was actually taller than me.

"Touch me again and you'll find out why I'm blacklisted from Vatican City."

I stepped back, turning back to Harry and pointing to him.

"Poppy and I work together on certain cases and afflictions. I happen to be an...expert...on this particular spell. I'm going to keep him from having long term effects and I'm going to try to stop any suffering he feels at the moment."
At that moment Poppy showed up once again and with a glance noticed the situation, turning a stern gaze on Diggory.

"If you can't behave I'm going to have to ask you to leave!"

He spluttered and I turned to Harry, watching intently as Poppy administered the 'treatment'. It was hot chocolate, laced with a bit of medical help. Not that Harry would notice it. He nodded off almost immediately after he drained it. The newly arrived Minister protested,

"We never got to question the boy!"

I turned my head to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Would you rather wait to question him or wake him and interrupt the healing?"

When he looked like he was going to take the second option I pointed to the sleeping boy.

"You wake him now and it will stunt his recovery. You don't fuck with this kind of dark magic."
Fudge twisted his hat around in his hands, face pinched,

"Are you sure there's dark magic involved? I'm sure that it's just the cries of attention from a troubled youth-"

"Poppy, do your scans show evidence of the cruciatus curse?"
"...yes."

The quickly administered scan showed exactly what she knew I had seen with the naked eye. I turned back to the kid, he looked so small in those hospital issue pajamas. I added a few more layers of quilt and let Dumbledore argue with Fudge. When he couldn't immediately poke holes in the story about Voldemort he turned to the story about how they first knew something was wrong, whirling to me.

"And how did you know something was wrong, eh? Foreigner turning up under suspicious circumstances, knowing things she shouldn't?"
I put on my most unnerving of grins.

"Oh, you know the exact circumstances of why I'm here, don't you minister?"

I dropped the grin, scowling.

"I keep watch on the wards for breaks, but during the task especially. I like to keep an eye out for Skeeter. She's hell in heels. I dislike her running amok with students around. Instead I came across a breach in the wards."

"And you were looking that thoroughly with intensive, complicated magic?"
I gave him a blank look,

"Oh, so I was supposed to do what everyone else was doing and stare at a hedge for a few hours? No thank you."
Someone snorted and I'd have put money on it being Sirius but he was, well, serious at the moment, what with learning of his godsons torture. I ignored the ministers blustering, turning back to Harry and looking him over. His color had improved already. I glanced up at Poppy and she met my eye, nodding in agreement to my unspoken assessment.

"Yes, he's doing brilliantly, it must not have been too long of exposure, definitely under a minute."

I tilted my head, looking back down at the kid.

"Yeah, he'll probably only need a dose of four and ten before he leaves, maybe some of six and fourteen throughout the next week or so according to pain."

Poppy raised an eyebrow at me,

"Ten? Why ten?"

I pointed at the slight movement in his wand hand.

"He's going to have a psychosomatic twitch if we don't do something, and Ten would have the most oomph to soften the impact of Fours usual side effect, which would have worsened that."
She nodded thoughtfully,

"I see, I see."

Then her head jerked back up at me, eyeing my posture with wide eyes.

"Mara! Are you-"

I shook my head, eyeing the ministry officials out of the corner of my eye. It took ten minutes for Dumbledore to pry all of the people away from the unconscious witness and get them to his office. Sirius had settled into the chair beside Harry a bit before that and the kids outside were repelled for the day, told they could come back the next day and that Harry was fine.

I had discreetly sent a patronus to the twins already, grimly assuring them that Harry was going to be fine and that I would explain what was happening personally the moment I was able. It would probably be the next day before I could give them the unedited version. As it was my forced physical activity and intense magic use was weighing on me. I'd wanted to drop for a while already, the only thing keeping me upright and ramrod straight was iron clad will. The moment I was sure that all of the political idiots were gone and all that was left was Sirius, Poppy, and Harry I let myself collapse onto a bed, deepening my breathing and closing my eyes. Poppy was at my side in an instant, clucking.

"What did you do to yourself this time?"
I mumbled and she poked me in admonishment. I sighed before clarifying,

"I said I ran several hundred feet and hurdled over a wall. The the thing with the wards..."

From the sound she made at me she was going to be furious over that for a good while. I tuned out her words, muscles finally untensing and spine relaxing. Yes, Voldemort was back to power despite my best efforts, but Cedric was alive, and so was Harry. Poppy was still speaking when I faded out of consciousness, making a mental note to ask the Doctor for theories of who could be fucking with our plans now.

~TimeLordOfPie