Diary of an Orphan (re-written)

by StrangeLittleWeirdo

Jenna grew up alone in an orphanage with no knowledge of who she was or where she came from. It wasn't until an owl arrived with a letter for her, and a man named Remus Lupin walked into her life, that she learnt she was so much more than she originally thought and her life would never be the same again.

27. Half-breeds and Heartache

Chapter 26

Half-breeds and Heartache

I lay awake that night unable to sleep as my mind kept replaying over and over what Hermione had said.

"Next time there's a ball, you and Harry pluck up the courage and ask me and Jenna before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

I stared up at the canopy of my bed. What had Hermione meant by it? Why had she brought my name into it? What had she been implying by including myself and Harry in the fight between her and Ron? I frowned. I knew things between me and Harry had been subject to gossip since Rita Skeeter's article came out a few weeks ago, that people thought I had stood Harry up for the Yule Ball by refusing to go with him, and Hermione had said he and I looked "comfortable" during the dance lessons. Then there was that moment when I arrived at the Yule Ball and I had noticed Harry staring at me. But that had meant nothing. Harry had never seen me dressed like that before. That was all. We were just friends and that wasn't ever likely to change at this point. I had known him for too long.

I shifted in my bed and turned over on to my side. I let out a deep sigh, my eyes finally feeling heavy with sleep, the thoughts of Harry drifting away.

Kills the spares!

I sat bolt upright in my bed. I gasped, my chest heaving. My body was covered in sweat. I looked around. I was in my bed in the dormitory. My bedsheets were twisted around my legs. I'd been having a nightmare and had woken up the moment I saw that same green light again. Or at least, that's what I thought it was. The dormitory was quiet. Hermione, Parvati, Lavender and Sally-Anne were all asleep.

Unsettled by the dream, I lay back down and tried to go back to sleep.

Unsurprisingly I was up early the next day. I had given up on sleep and gone down to the common room to wait for breakfast to start. I was joined not long afterwards by Hermione. Her hair was a wild mixture of her natural curls where the Sleekeazy's potion had worn off and the sleek tresses she'd had last night. She took one look at me and gave a half-hearted smile, taking the seat opposite me.

'You look like you've barely slept,' she told me. 'And you left your makeup on.'

'That would explain why my eyes feel so dry,' I mumbled. I groped for my wand to find I'd left it upstairs. Hermione took pity on me and pointed her own at my face. She muttered an incantation. A cool breeze blew over my face and it felt refreshed. 'Thanks,' I muttered. I stretched in my seat and sat up. 'How're you feeling? You had quite a night last night.'

'I think we both did,' said Hermione. I raised my eyebrow at her, confused. 'Well, I saw you with a few different people last night. Did anything … happen?'

I hesitated, unsure what to say.

'Something … might have happened,' I said, giving no specifics to what I had got up to last night but enough to let Hermione know her assumptions were correct. Hermione beamed. 'What about you? Did you and Krum – you know – did you get a chance …?'

Hermione's cheeks flushed. Her hand awkwardly went through her tangled hair.

'There was a moment when Viktor and I were alone,' Hermione confirmed. I grinned. 'And he was a gentleman throughout,' said Hermione firmly. 'More than some people were last night.'

I knew exactly who she meant.

'Yeah, I can't imagine Padma had the best of night's last night,' I mused, leaning back in my chair. 'Ron was about as charming as a Doxy. I think those Beauxbatons boys cheered her and Parvati up though.'

'Ronald needs to reassess his definition of loyalty,' bristled Hermione, 'given his behaviour towards Harry when his name first came out of the Goblet of Fire, he can hardly accuse me of "fraternising with the enemy" last night when he didn't even believe Harry hadn't put his own name in, not to mention how much of a hypocrite he is with how he was fawning over Viktor when he first got here. If he didn't like me going with Viktor, it serves him right for not asking me sooner.'

As it was Boxing Day, the rest of the Gryffindor students didn't appear until much later, giving Hermione and I time to talk about the Yule Ball together in peace. When they started to appear, we went down to breakfast where we were eventually joined by Harry and Ron. Ron and Hermione greeted each other with a very curt and oddly formal "morning". Harry and I shared a furtive look, unsure what this greeting meant, but it soon became apparent that they had silently agreed not to talk about last night, especially as it appeared Harry and Ron had more important things to tell us once we were back in the common room.

'Snape was with Karkaroff last night, out in the grounds,' Harry told us. 'Karkaroff seemed worried about something, that something was getting clearer, and that Snape knew about whatever it was too.'

'Well, we know Karkaroff was a Death Eater,' shrugged Ron, 'wouldn't surprise me if it meant Snape was one too. They were on first name terms with each other last night.'

'Being on first name terms with another teacher doesn't automatically mean Snape was a Death Eater,' said Hermione. 'Snape is a teacher, as is Karkaroff. Regardless of previous familiarity with each other, being in the same professional circles warrants a level of informality between them regardless of how long they've known each other.'

'Snape aside,' continued Harry, sending Ron a look before he could say anything in response to Hermione, 'there's something more important we overheard last night. Something about Hagrid.'

'What about Hagrid?' I asked. 'What did you hear?'

'After Snape and Karkaroff had gone, we heard Hagrid's voice from nearby the fountains. He was still with Madame Maxime and they were talking. He was telling her about his parents, about how his mum left when he was a kid and that later his dad died, and then he asked her which side she had it from as he had never met another one like him.'

'Had what?' I asked. 'Another what like him?'

'Half giant!' hissed Ron quietly.

I stared at Ron for a moment, 'So?'

Ron gaped at me, apparently stunned by my indifferent reaction. He looked to Hermione, but she too seemed unsurprised by this news.

'Well, I thought he must be,' she said, shrugging. 'I knew he couldn't be pure giant, because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible … it's the same sort of prejudice that people have towards werewolves … it's just bigotry, isn't it?'

'So you're not concerned?' asked Harry.

'Why should we be?' I replied. 'We know better than anyone not to judge people based on what they are. Remember who taught us last year?' I added. I gave Ron a side glance, remembering his reaction in the Shrieking Shack when Hermione had revealed to him Lupin was a werewolf. 'We know Hagrid better than most people in our year. What do we have to be concerned about because he's half giant?'

For those who didn't do any homework (Harry and Ron) before Christmas, the fact that term was starting again in a matter of days led to a quieter and more subdued common room as people attempted to finish it all in time. The only noticeable noise now came from upstairs in Harry and Ron's dormitory. Having not touched the golden egg since November, Harry could now be heard opening it every time he went upstairs. Wails and shrieks would issue down the stairs in several short bursts before Harry would return seemingly none the wiser as to what the shrieks meant and each time more frustrated than the last. As annoying as it was for the rest of us, at least he was working on it now. February twenty-fourth wasn't too far away now.

The snow had not yet gone by the first day of term. The greenhouses were cold and the windows were fogged up with condensation during Herbology. Professor Sprout even got us to put scarves on the Venomous Tentacula. When it came to Care of Magical Creatures, those who didn't take the subject took one track in the snow back inside the castle while the rest of us forced our way through it down to Hagrid's Hut. And while a lot of us probably weren't looking forward to the class, Ron was right when he said we would soon warm up once the Skrewts were released. When we reached the cabin, however, it wasn't Hagrid standing on the doorstep waiting for us.

'Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,' barked an elderly witch with wiry grey hair under a dark brown bucket hat. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I all looked at each other. That wasn't Hagrid.

'Who're you?' asked Ron. 'Where's Hagrid?'

'My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,' said the woman briskly, 'I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.'

'Temporary?' I repeated, looking at the others.

'Where's Hagrid?' asked Harry again.

'He is indisposed,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly. 'This way, please.'

Professor Grubbly-Plank stepped down off Hagrid's doorstep and strode off towards the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were huddled over their trough of whiskey. Harry hurried off to catch up with her as Ron, Hermione and I followed on behind. The Hut stood eerily empty and quiet behind us with all its curtains closed, and the unmistakeably sound of a certain Slytherin laughing could be heard through the crunch of the snow. We followed Professor Grubbly-Plank past the paddock and over to the border of the Forbidden Forest. Tethered to a wooden post in the ground was a single unicorn. Its hair glistened bright white in the snow making it look almost grey in comparison; when it saw us approaching it pawed at the ground warily, its horned head raised and still.

'Oh, it's so beautiful!' whispered Lavender.

Professor Grubbly-Plank instructed the boys to keep back while we were allowed to slowly approach due to the unicorn's distrustful nature towards men. They remained by the fence. Professor Grubbly-Plank began the lesson with a brief introduction of the unicorn and its history as a widely known creature in Muggle fairy tales before giving us a full and more accurate account of their behaviours, magical properties, as well as the differences between an adult and a foal, only raising her voice about halfway through the lecture to make sure the boys at the back of the class were still paying attention. As much as I hated to admit it, I actually enjoyed the class. It was engaging and much more interesting than any of Hagrid's classes lately. Not to mention less dangerous. I felt guilty for enjoying it so much.

'Look at this!' Harry snapped once we were back in the Great Hall for lunch. We took a seat the Gryffindor table. He shoved what looked like a page of the Daily Prophet towards me and Hermione.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been
afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of
this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the
Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known
habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks
responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical
Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of
gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used
his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the addition post of Care of Magical Creatures
teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify
students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has
maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be 'very frightening'.

'My cousin and I were attacked by a Hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite from a
Flobberworm,' says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student and cousin to previously mentioned student, Jenny
Black. 'We all hate Hagrid, but we're too scared to say anything.'

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily
Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts', highly
dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of
course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical
Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.

'I was just having some fun,' he says, before hastily changing the subject.

As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not – as he has
always pretended – a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively
reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring among
themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be
Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle-killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against th
Dark side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still
existing inn foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide,
however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought about
You-Know-Who's fall from power – thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's
supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but
Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned
about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

My eyes scanned the article. My mouth slowly fell open in shock at what I read. It was an entire exposé on Hagrid from everything since getting expelled fifty years ago, to his recent and what we had believed was a private admonition of his parentage to Madame Maxime and who exactly his mother was. And the article was written by none other than Rita Skeeter.

'How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out?' gasped Hermione. 'You don't think Hagrid told her?'

'No,' said Harry, furious. 'He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get back at him.'

'Well, she went straight to one of the right people,' I said. 'Getting an interview with Malfoy where he gets to slam Hagrid. He probably jumped at the chance. It's no secret Malfoy hates him. But that doesn't explain how she knew he was half-giant.'

'Maybe she heard him telling Madam Maxime at the ball,' said Hermione quietly.

'We'd have seen her in the garden!' said Ron. 'Anyway, she's not supposed to come into the school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her …'

'Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak,' said Harry. 'Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in the bushes listening to people.'

'Like you and Ron did, you mean,' said Hermione.

'We weren't trying to hear him!' said Ron indignantly. 'We didn't have any choice. The stupid git, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!'

'This isn't his fault, Ron,' I said.

'We've got to go and see him,' said Harry. 'This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back … You do want him back?'

Harry looked pointedly at both me and Hermione. I hesitated.

'Well, it's not like I don't want him back,' I said. 'It's just – Hermione?' I looked at her for support.

'I – well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once – but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!' Hermione insisted.

It's not very often Harry's furious stare could make me wilt.

Going down to Hagrid's after dinner that evening proved to be a waste of time. We hammered on the door for a good ten minutes but the only response we received was Fang's whines and scratches at the door as he begged to be let out. Hagrid was obviously in there but was refusing to answer. While we didn't care that Hagrid was half-giant, it appeared that Hagrid cared a lot about his status now being public as he didn't resurface for the rest of the week. He wasn't in the Great Hall at meals; he wasn't doing his gamekeeper duties around the grounds; and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take his Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

Not that the latter was a bad thing …

A Hogsmeade visit was announced shortly into the start of the term. I was somewhat relieved to hear there was to be a brief respite coming soon, however, only Hermione saw this as a missed opportunity for Harry to study the egg while everyone else was out of the castle. I wasn't sure if I believed Harry's assurance that he'd almost solved the clue when he told us. Still, I couldn't blame him for wanting a break as well.

The weather was wet and cold when we left Hogwarts on Saturday morning for Hogsmeade. Bundled in our scarves and gloves, the four of us made our way down the footpath. We stopped briefly when we saw a shirtless Viktor Krum come on to the deck of the Durmstrang ship dressed only in swimming trunks before diving straight into the Black Lake. With a somewhat suspicious comment about the giant squid from Ron, we made our way through the gates and down the road towards the village. We walked round the street looking in the shop windows or occasionally going inside when one of us needed to buy something, before heading to the Three Broomsticks to warm up with a drink of Butterbeer.

The pub was busy as it always was, but not busy enough to not notice Ludo Bagman conversing at a corner table with a group of goblins in low voices and bowed heads. It was especially odd because there wasn't even a Triwizard event happening this weekend, so what reason did Bagman have to even be in the village. We quietly sat and watched once we had our drinks, all of us suspicious as to what was going on. It wasn't long, however, before Bagman seemed to spot Harry through the crowd and made a hasty move towards our table. He greeted Harry enthusiastically before promptly asking Ron, Hermione and I to leave them so they could have a chat. Reluctantly we left them alone and found another table.

'What d'you think he wants?' asked Ron.

'Not sure,' I muttered, 'but he looked a bit flushed when he appeared. Something to do with those goblins he's talking to? They don't look happy.'

We looked over towards Harry and Bagman.

'It's probably something to do with the Tournament,' said Hermione reasonably, but she was eyeing them closely. 'So long as he isn't trying to help Harry …' and she let the sentence trail off.

The door to the Three Broomsticks opened. Fred and George walked in and, seeing Bagman, made a beeline for Harry's table. There was a short interaction and next moment Bagman was making a swift exit out of the pub. The goblins in the corner then followed suit. Ron, Hermione and I shared a look. That was strange. Why had Bagman left so quickly after Fred and George turned up and then why did the goblins quickly follow? With Bagman now gone Harry re-joined our table.

'What did he want?' asked Ron. Harry took the seat next to him.

'He offered to help me with the golden egg,' said Harry.

'He shouldn't be doing that!' said Hermione, shocked. 'He's one of the judges!'

'Didn't stop Karkaroff and Maxine telling Krum and Fleur about the dragons,' I pointed out.

'Well, we already knew that they were likely to be biased,' said Hermione impatiently, 'but Bagman is a Ministry official and should know better and be keeping to the impartiality rules! And anyway, you've already worked it out – haven't you?'

Hermione sent Harry a stern look.

'Er … nearly,' he replied.

I raised my eyebrow. Harry had figured out the egg, right? He had said he had been working on it and was close before the Hogsmeade visit today. But that was over a week ago now.

'Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!' said Hermione firmly. 'I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!'

'He's not,' confirmed Harry. 'I asked.'

'Who cares if Diggory's getting help?' said Ron.

'If Bagman's trying to help Harry so that Hogwarts wins, it's only fair he gives the same help to Cedric,' I reasoned. 'They are both Hogwarts Champions.'

'He doesn't have to,' countered Ron. 'Not if he's got some bet on Harry going or something. Would ruin his chances, wouldn't it?'

'Especially if it had anything to do with those goblins,' said Hermione. 'They didn't look very friendly. What were they doing here?'

'Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,' said Harry. 'He's still ill. Hasn't been into work.'

'Maybe Percy's poisoning him,' said Ron. 'Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be made Head of the Department of International Magical Co-Operation.'

'Honestly, Ronald!' I said, frustrated at the flippant remarks he always made in situations like this. I didn't even realise I had copied Hermione's habit of calling him "Ronald" when she was angry with him. 'Percy is ambitious but he's not stupid enough to poison his boss just to get a promotion.'

'Funny goblins looking for Mr Crouch …' mused Hermione, 'they'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.'

'Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,' said Harry. 'Maybe they need an interpreter.'

'Worrying about poor 'ickle goblins, now, are you?' Ron then asked Hermione. 'Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?'

'Ha ha ha,' said Hermione sarcastically. 'Goblins don't need protection. Haven't you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?'

'No,' said Harry and Ron together. What a surprise, I thought.

'Well, they're quite capable of dealing with wizards,' said Hermione. She took a sip of her Butterbeer. 'They're very clever. They're not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves.'

'Talking of clever,' I said suddenly in a hushed voice, 'look who just walked in.'

Dressed in a set of unsightly banana-yellow robes which were hard to miss, Rita Skeeter had just walked into the pub, her shocking pink clawed fingers clasping at her crocodile handbag, with her photographer. They quickly brought drinks and took a table near to ours having not noticed us. She was talking very fast to him about something which appeared to have excited her.

'… didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights … what nonsense … he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Sports, Ludo Bagman … snappy start to a sentence, Bozo – we just need to find a story to fit it –'

I wrinkled my nose, disgusted by her scheming behaviour. It was like a Matagot toying with its prey.

'Trying to ruin someone else's life?' said Harry loudly. I looked at him, startled. Why was he drawing attention to us? Surely that's the last thing he'd want, Rita Skeeter knowing he was here.

'Harry!' she beamed. 'How lovely! Why don't you come and join –?'

'I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,' said Harry angrily. 'What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?'

Rita raised her thick pencilled brows.

'Our readers have the right to know the truth, Harry, I am merely doing my –'

'Who cares if he's half-giant?' Harry then shouted. 'There's nothing wrong with him!'

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Even Madam Rosmerta seemed to have forgotten about the pint she'd been pouring and was staring transfixed at the two of them.

Something flickered over Rita's face. She reached for her crocodile handbag and clicked it open. She pulled out her acid green quill.

'How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry?' she asked. There was a horribly sweet tone to her voice. 'The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute.'

I sat there silent, hoping Harry would dismiss her baiting. But this time it was Hermione who answered back. She jumped abruptly from her seat, her Butterbeer clutched in her hand like she was ready to throw it.

'You horrible woman,' said Hermione, 'you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman –'

'Sit down, you silly little girl,' said Rita sneeringly to Hermione, 'and don't talk about things you don't understand. I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl …' She let her eyes drift over Hermione's hair. 'Not that it needs it.'

'Let's go,' said Hermione sharply. 'C'mon, Harry – Ron …'

Assuming she meant all of us, I followed the others out of the Three Broomsticks, but not before I saw Rita's quill skidding quickly across a freshly drawn piece of parchment. This wasn't good.

Hermione ranted all the way back up to the castle despite Ron's warnings that Rita Skeeter would come after her as well with her acerbic articles. Hermione promptly dismissed this, her face like thunder. Even with all the arguments she'd had with Ron in the past, I hadn't seen Hermione this angry since last year when she punched Malfoy before Harry, Hermione and I had replayed time to rescue Buckbeak, coincidentally also in defence of Hagrid. She broke into a run midway up the hill leaving Harry, Ron and I chasing after her up the path and through the school gates. She wasn't headed to the castle though. Instead she was making her way to Hagrid's Hut. The curtains were still drawn but that didn't stop her. Hermione jumped up the steps and began hammering on the front door shouting his name.

'Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being –'

The door opened. Professor Dumbledore peered down his crooked nose at her. Hermione shrank back.

'Good afternoon,' said Dumbledore pleasantly, giving us a smile.

'We – er – wanted to see Hagrid,' mumbled Hermione. Her cheeks had turned a rosy pink.

'Yes, I surmised as much,' said Dumbledore lightly. 'Why don't you come in?'

'Oh … um … OK.'

We crossed the threshold into the cabin. Fang immediately began jumping up at us for attention. I reached into the pocket of my robes for an animal treat (I always had one or two crumbled up in them which Lupin loathed whenever he washed my robes) and held it out for Fang to calm him down. Hagrid was sat at his table. Two bucket-sized mugs of tea were in front of him. He looked terrible; his eyes were red, he was sniffing heavily from crying, and his already tangled beard looked even worse. He gave us a hoarse "hello" as Dumbledore made some more tea.

'Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?' he asked. Hermione turned even pinker. 'Hermione, Harry, Ron and Jenna still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.'

'Of course we still want to know you!' confirmed Harry. 'You don't think anything that Skeeter cow – sorry Professor,' Harry added quickly.

'I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry,' said Dumbledore, who was for some reason staring at the ceiling.

'Er – right – I just meant – Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that – woman – wrote about you?'

Two very large tears formed at Hagrid's dark eyes and fell into his beard.

'Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid,' said Dumbledore. He was still staring at the ceiling for some reason. 'I have shown you the letters from countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that, if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it –'

'Not all of 'em,' croaked Hagrid. 'Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay.'

Dumbledore looked through his half-moon spectacles at Hagrid.

'Really, Hagrid, if you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,' he told him. 'Not a week has passed since I became Headmaster of this school, when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?'

'Yeh – yeh're not half giant!' croaked Hagrid.

I frowned, my sympathy suddenly disappearing to be replaced with mild frustration.

'Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!' said Harry. 'Look at the Dursleys!'

'And me,' I said. I hesitated. 'You're not the only half-breed here, Hagrid,' I said. 'I'm a half-breed too, and my uncle's a werewolf. If anyone knows how you feel, I do, but I don't hide away because of what people think of me. What makes me different is what makes me who I am, half-breed and all.'

'An excellent point,' said Dumbledore. I saw him look at me out of the corner of his eye. 'My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery …'

I blinked. OK …?

The brief silence that followed Dumbledore's anecdote about his somewhat questionable brother, Hermione said quietly, 'Come back and teach, Hagrid, please come back, we really miss you.'

By now tears were freely falling down Hagrid's cheeks. Dumbledore rose to his feet.

'I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday,' he said. 'You will join me for breakfast at eight thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.'

And with a flutter of his pale blue robes, Dumbledore left the Hut before Hagrid could reply.

Hagrid came round after that. We sat and listened as he reminisced more to himself than to us about his father and how Dumbledore had always been in his corner after his dad died and when he got expelled and got him the gamekeeper job. His ramblings got a little odd though when he scoffed at Madame Maxime's "big bones" claim; I think he'd forgotten he was talking to us when he said that, but we didn't want to let on we already knew this from Harry and Ron overhearing him at the Ball. His sombre mutterings concluded with him turning to Harry and heaping on how he proud he was of him being a champion and how sure he was that he could win. He even asked about the egg. Harry's response though was somewhat unconvincing to me but was enough to finally cheer Hagrid up.

January finally turned into February. The second task was drawing closer. The noise of the common room was no longer punctuated by the sounds of Harry's egg which began to concern me giving Harry's recent responses whenever Hermione or someone else had asked him how solving its clue was going. A part of me just wasn't convinced Harry had solved the egg. I wasn't sure exactly what he was doing with it but I was pretty sure that Harry was no closer to solving that egg than Dad was to being given a pardon from the Ministry of Magic.

My suspicions were confirmed on Thursday evening. I'd gone out into the grounds after dinner to get some air when I saw Harry standing on the Wooden Bridge staring out into the valley below. Seeing he was alone I decided to go over to talk to him. I'd just stepped out into the courtyard when I heard a pair of voices coming from nearby. In the sheltered corridor around the courtyard, I saw Moody was talking to Cedric. He was looking intensely at Cedric, with both his eyes. My curiosity piqued. I glanced around. There was no one else in the courtyard and Moody's magical eye was still focused on Cedric. I looked upwards and bent my knees. As I pushed off I transformed into a owl and flew up on to the roof directly above them. I hopped to the edge so I could hear them better with my owl ears. Hearing in animal form was never as clear as it was in human form.

'You worked out the clue in that egg yet, Diggory?' Moody was growling at him. 'Did my general advice help?'

'Oh, yes sir,' replied Cedric. 'I worked it out shortly after your talk with me.'

'And did you tell Potter how you to do it?' Moody continued.

Tell Harry what? I wondered. I spread my wings and fluttered down on to the stone wall of the corridor so I could see them. Moody was leaning heavily on his walking staff. Any smaller student might have felt threatened by his imposing form towering over them. Cedric looked calm as always.

'Yes, sir,' replied Cedric. 'I told him after the Yule Ball. Not in as many words, but I gave him an obvious hint of what to do like you suggested. But I don't know if he took my advice.'

Cedric had given Harry a clue? Why? And more importantly, why had the idiot clearly not done whatever Cedric had suggested?

'Well, ask him so,' growled Moody. 'Can't not pay him back for telling you about those dragons. It's only fair.'

I didn't like this. I mean, Moody was right that it was only fair that Cedric help Harry the same way Harry had helped him. But this was the second time now Moody had used his excuse of general advice to help the Hogwarts Champions. Something wasn't right. Unsure what to do, I flew off and across the courtyard. Hopefully Harry was still on the bridge. I flew through the low arch. He was just up ahead, still staring into the grounds. Knowing the coast was till clear, I transformed back, my feet hitting the wooden floor. Harry jumped.

'I thought Lupin said you weren't to do that here?' he asked when he saw me. I rolled my eyes.

'And since when did I do what Lupin told me to?' I retorted. Harry made to respond but then shrugged in agreement. 'What are you doing out here?' I then asked. I walked over to Harry and stood next to him. I leant on the wooden window frame, looking round it at him. Harry didn't respond. Instead he resumed staring out into the grounds. 'How's the egg going?'

Harry seemed to sigh, probably because he knew it was useless trying to lie to me.

'I haven't got anywhere with the egg,' he said reluctantly. 'Not since I last opened it in January.'

'Harry, you told Hermione you'd figured that egg out weeks ago,' I said, trying my best not to sound like Hermione. 'The task is two weeks away.'

'Really? I had no idea,' replied Harry sarcastically, and he turned away from me. 'How come you're not with George?'

Excuse me? Where did that come from?

'Why would I be with George?' I asked.

'Well, that's who you went to the Yule Ball with, wasn't it?' said Harry.

I stared at Harry, 'Actually I didn't go to the Ball with anyone. I just happened to dance with George for part of it. Why?'

'If you were going to go to the Ball, Jenna, why wouldn't you go with me?' Harry asked. 'The way you turned me down – it was humiliating. People were whispering about it for days afterwards.'

'So was the way you asked me,' I countered. 'Believe it or not, it's not that nice being called a "last resort". And actually, I think you'll find you came out of that better off than I did, after all, you were the one who got stood up apparently when I turned up to the Ball. I'm the one who got made out as the bad guy.'

I watched and waited as Harry processed what I'd said. I wondered if he was going to apologise at all for it. When he turned away for a second time, I realised he wasn't.

'You are … trying to figure that egg out, aren't you?' I eventually asked, going back to our previous conversation. It caused Harry to look at me again.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked bluntly.

'It means these tasks are supposed to test you,' I replied. 'They're designed for wizards much older than you so you're already at a disadvantage.' I held back a groan when Harry turned away again. I walked round the other side of him to get him to look at me. 'That dragon was only the first task, and it was brutal, cruel even, forcing you to face a Hungarian Horntail and …' I hesitated, 'I'm scared for you. You got by the dragons mostly because of your skill on a broomstick and your nerve. I'm just not sure it's going to be enough this time.'

I waited for Harry to reply, concerned he was not doing enough to get himself through this task. I wanted to bring up Cedric's hint but I couldn't because I wasn't meant to know he'd done that. But Harry stood resolute and refusing to look at me. Before I could say anything else, however, a voice called Harry's name.

'Hey, Potter!'

I looked behind me to see Cedric approaching us. He must have seen us on the bridge after he had finished talking with Moody. Harry groaned, standing straight to walk away.

'Harry,' I protested but he was already off. Cedric came up beside me.

'Is this a bad time?' he asked.

'No, it's just,' I said, frustration etched in my voice. I turned to Cedric. 'Cedric, I know you gave Harry a clue for the egg,' I said. 'Please, he won't listen to me. Go after him and convince him to try it, whatever it is. He needs to get through this task.'

'Don't worry, Jenna,' said Cedric. He touched my arm reassuringly. 'I will.' and he chased after Harry.

I watched as Cedric caught Harry before he reached the end of the bridge. I just had to hope Harry swallowed his pride long enough to take Cedric's advice.

I didn't find out until the following day if Cedric did or didn't manage to convince Harry to take his advice. The first lesson of the days was Charms and we were learning the Banishing Charm today which meant there was going to be the usual chaos in the classroom. Professor Flitwick had taken every precaution and provided us with stacks of cushions to practise with as in theory they would hurt less if any of us got hit with them. Once Flitwick had set us about practising the charm, Harry turned to us and told us about the trip he'd taken last night to the Prefect's bathroom of all places.

'The screaming that was coming from that egg,' Harry told us quietly, 'it was a mermaid. There are merpeople in the lake, which means the next task is happening down at the lake. They're going to take something of mine and I've got to go down into the lake and get it back. So somehow I need to find a way to breathe underwater.'

'The task is days away and you are only telling us now that you need to find a way to breathe underwater?' said Hermione. 'You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!'

'Keep your voice down!' said Harry. 'I just need to – sort of fine-tune it, all right?'

I frowned. Harry was cutting it close to find a way to breathe underwater, almost as close as he left it to learn the Summoning Charm for the first task. I was at least thankful he seemed to have finally taken Cedric's advice and done what he needed to do to work it out. My attention was briefly diverted, however, when I saw Professor Flitwick suddenly zooming across the room into a pile of cushions next to his normal stack of books. The resigned expression on his face was a stark contrast to the panicked expression on Neville's.

But discovering what the egg meant wasn't the only thing that apparently had happened last night. On his way back to the Tower, Harry had had a run in with Moody and Snape when he'd accidentally fallen into the trick step on the staircase when he'd been following someone on the Marauder's Map: Barty Crouch. This was strange. Crouch had been ill from the Ministry for weeks now; what was he doing in the castle in the middle of the night? But that wasn't the only strange incident. Snape's private cupboard in his office had been raided. That was where he kept all his private potion ingredients. Moody had previously done of search of it and his office which Snape had objected to, citing his belief that wizards don't change their wands. And that's when Snape apparently grabbed his left arm.

'Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something …' Harry concluded.

'What?' said Ron. His eyes then widened. 'Harry … maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!'

Oh, come on! I thought despairingly. This again?

'Oh, Ron,' said Hermione, voicing my despair, 'we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life remember?'

'We know Snape hates Harry because of his dad,' I added, 'but even so, Snape wouldn't try to kill Harry when Dumbledore knows everything that goes on in this castle.'

'I don't care what Moody says,' Hermione continued, 'Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit –'

'– evil,' said Ron for her. 'Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark-wizard-catchers searching his office, then?'

'Why has Crouch been pretending to be ill?' Hermione then asked, ignoring Ron. 'It's a bit funny, isn't it, that he can't manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?'

'You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky,' said Ron, matter-of-factly, while also sending a cushion straight into the window.

'You just want to think Snape's up to something,' countered Hermione. And with a smooth flick her cushion landed neatly in the box.

'I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one,' said Harry grimly.

Knowing this late what was coming up in the second task now meant we had just over a week to help Harry prepare for the task. Once Harry had sent a letter to Dad updating him on what was going on, all our time was once again spent in the library trying to find a way for Harry to breathe underwater for an hour. We went through every possible method from summoning something to help him breathe to human transfiguration, anything that allowed for the provision of oxygen or the ability to cope without it temporarily. Every break, lunch, dinner and weekend was spent searching for an answer but coming up with very few results. The only thing that punctuated the endless searching was a reply from Dad.

Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl.

Lessons provided a brief respite from all the research but not much. The only positive was that Hagrid had returned to class and had, thankfully, abandoned the Skrewts and was continuing Professor Grubby-Planks' lessons on unicorns. When you took away the dangerous monsters, Hagrid was actually a pretty good teacher. His knowledge of unicorns was just as good as it was on dragons and other more dangerous creatures as he taught us about the unicorn foals he had brought into class today. As they were only foals the boys were able to get more involved this time. The girls in the class unsurprisingly cooed over them as much as they had the adults; even Pansy looked like she would break her usually stony demeanour over their presence.

'I don't reckon it can be done. There's nothing. Nothing.'

Ron let his head drop on to the book in front of him. It was the night before the second task and we were still in the library desperately searching as many books as we could. I looked up from my textbook. Harry was flicking through the pages of a thick brown tome; Hermione was running her finger over the shelf behind our table, scouring for potential titles; and Ron had reluctantly returned to his volume. We all looked in various states of disarray. The stress on Harry's face was very visible.

'Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake.'

'There must be something,' muttered Hermione. She had re-joined us at the table and was now staring at the tiny writing on the page in front of her. 'They'd never have set a task that was undoable.'

'They have,' said Ron. 'Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate.'

'There's a way of doing it!' said Hermione. It seemed that she'd taken the lack of answers as a personal insult. There just has to be!'

'I know what I should have done,' sighed Harry. He folded his arms on the book in front of him and put his head on them. 'I should've learnt to be an Animagus like Sirius.'

'Yeah, you ccould've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted!' said Ron.

'Or a frog.'

'What animal you turn into when you go through the Animagus process can't be chosen beforehand, it's supposed to reflect your inner self,' I yawned. 'Besides, becoming an Animagus is a long process. It took Dad and his friends three years to do it, and if you mess just one bit up, you must start it all over again, not to mention you have to do so many steps and take a lot of precautions to even make the potion that –'

'Jenna,' said Harry, cutting me off. 'Shut up.'

I rolled my eyes, 'Just saying.'

'Jenna's right, it takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything,' agreed Hermione. 'Professor McGonagall told us, remember … you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office … what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it …'

'Hermione, I was joking,' said Harry wearily. 'I know I haven't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning …'

'Oh, this is no use,' groaned Hermione. She slammed shut the copy of Weird Wizarding Dilemmas she was now looking at. 'Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets.'

'I wouldn't mind,' said a voice from behind the bookcase. From behind it appeared Fred and George. 'Be a talking point, wouldn't it.'

'What're you two doing here?' asked Ron.

'Looking for you,' said George. He then glanced over towards me. He gave me the smallest of smiles. Despite my stress, the corner of my lip lifted into one in return. George turned back to the others. 'McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione.'

'Why?' Hermione asked, surprised.

'Dunno … she was looking a bit grim, though,' said Fred.

'We're supposed to take you down to her office,' said George.

The four of us looked at each other. Now was not the time for two of us to leave the other two searching for answers. We all needed to be here. Harry needed all the help he could get and four heads were better than two. But if McGonagall wanted to see Hermione and Ron, they had better go.

'We'll meet you back in the common room,' Hermione told us. 'Bring as many of these books as you can, OK?' and the two of them got up and followed Fred and George out of the library.

Harry and I didn't leave the library until the very last moment. We relented when Madam Pince had extinguished all the candles and threatened to send her books after us if we didn't leave. We grabbed as many as we both could carry and returned to the Gryffindor common room. It was still relatively full when we got there, but we were able to take our favourite chairs in the corner and resume our research. We sat in silence as we turned page after page of spells, potions and charms, went through book after book hoping to find an answer. There had to be something that could help Harry. Every so often I checked the time. It was getting later and later, and Ron and Hermione still weren't back. I wonder what was keeping them so long. What had McGonagall wanted? I yawned and rested my head on my arms. I closed my eyes. I just needed a quick break then I'd get back to it.

'Jenna, wake up!'

My head snapped up, cracking my neck in the process. I let out a sharp breath from the pain. I looked round tiredly to see it was morning. I must've fallen asleep. Neville was standing by the table with a book in his hand. He must have been the one who'd woken me. But Harry wasn't there.

'Neville, what time is it?' I asked. 'Where's Harry?'

'It's quarter past eight,' Neville replied. 'I think Harry's gone to breakfast but that wasn't why I woke you. You have a visitor.'

Neville pointed at the table. I hadn't seen the tiny house-elf anxiously bouncing from one foot to the other, his tea cosy hat wobbling precariously on his head.

'Dobby?'

'Miss! Miss!' squeaked Dobby impatiently. 'We must find Harry Potter! The task starts soon and he is not here! He has to save his Wheezy!'

What? What on earth was Harry's "Wheezy"?

'Dobby, what are you talking about?' I asked, confused. I looked round again. Then something occurred to me. 'Neville, did Ron come back last night?'

'I don't think so,' said Neville. 'I didn't see him or Harry come to bed last night and they weren't there when I got up this morning.'

'"An hour long you'll have to look and to recover what we took",' I muttered. My eyes widened. Ron was the thing Harry would miss. He was his best friend! That's why McGonagall had wanted to see him last night! Because he was being taken! 'Neville, have you seen Harry at all this morning?' I asked him quickly.

Neville shook his head, 'No, I don't think so.' It was then I noticed the book in Neville's hand.

'What's that book you're reading?' I asked.

'Oh, Professor Moody gave it to me,' said Neville brightly. 'After that Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. It's called Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs. He said Professor Sprout had told him I liked Herbology so he leant it to me.'

A spark seemed to light in my brain.

'Can I borrow that quickly?'

Neville nodded and handed me the book. Quickly I skimmed through its pages, my eyes scanning every plant title listed. Dobby was still squeaking impatiently in front of me about Harry saving his Wheezy. I ignored him long enough to find what I was looking for. About halfway through the book in a chapter titled Seaweeds and Succulents was a page dedicated to a greyish plant that looked like a pile of slimy worms. It was called Gillyweed. I read the accompanying paragraph. Gillyweed was used by wizards to study sea and river flora and fauna because it allowed them to breathe underwater by providing them with gills when they ate it. That's it! That's what Harry needed!

'Dobby,' I said quickly, 'go to Snape's potion stores and get a small pile of Gillyweed. Not enough that he'd noticed it's gone but enough that Harry could breathe underwater for at least an hour.'

'But, Miss!' squeaked Dobby worriedly. 'Harry Potter must save his Wheezy!'

'He will!' I said impatiently. 'But I need you to get the Gillyweed first or he won't be able to save his Wheezy. He needs it for the second task! Once you've got it start searching the castle for Harry. He might be in the library if he went back there last night to find more books.'

Dobby nodded and with a click of his fingers, he vanished.

'Neville, are Harry's clothes for the task in his dormitory?'

'I think so,' said Neville.

'Thanks.'

I got up and rushed up to my dormitory to get changed, then rushed back down to the common room and back up to the boys' dormitory. I went over to Harry's bed and found a pile of clothes on his bed that looked like they'd been provided for the task. I grabbed them then went over to Harry's trunk. I searched through the mess for a large piece of folded parchment I knew would be in there. The Marauder's Map. But it wasn't there. Of all the times Harry might have had the Map on him, of course he would now so he could sneak around the castle. But that meant if he had left the Tower, there was only one place he must've gone. Back to the library.

Dobby had already found Harry by the time I got to the library with his robes. He looked panicked. Dobby must have told him about Ron.

'Jenna, they've got Ron!' he said as soon as he saw me.

'I know,' I said. 'Here, I've got your robes. Get changed. We've got to get down to the lake.'

'Harry Potter needs to hurry!' squeaked Dobby. 'The second task starts in ten minutes, and Harry Potter –'

'Ten minutes?' repeated Harry. 'Ten – ten minutes?'

'Harry, move!' I insisted.

'It's too late, Dobby,' said Harry hopelessly as I shoved his robes into his arms. 'I'm not doing the task, I don't know how –'

'Harry Potter will do the task!' squeaked Dobby furiously. 'Dobby knew Harry Potter had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!'

'What?' said Harry. 'But you don't know what the second task is –'

'Dobby knows, sir!' said Dobby. 'Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy so Dobby found Harry Potter's friend with the right book and got him to show it to Miss!' Dobby pointed at me. That must have been why Neville woke me; because Dobby had told him to show me the book he had from Moody. 'Dobby couldn't help you directly, sir, so I got Miss to find what you need then Dobby went and got it for Harry Potter!'

Dobby put his tiny hand into the pocket of his shorts. From it he pulled a small pile of slimy jelly-like plants. The Gillyweed.

'Right before you go into the lake, sir – Gillyweed!'

'What's it do?' asked Harry, pulling on his vest and trunks.

'It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater, sir!'

'Dobby,' said Harry, 'listen – are you sure about this?'

'Harry, for Merlin's sake,' I said, exasperated. 'Now is not the time to question Dobby despite his track record of helping you! I will explain everything later. Right now we have got to get you down to the lake. Now move it!'

Harry shoved his clothes and his Invisibility Cloak into his bag and together we ran out of the library and through the castle towards the grounds. As we ran down the hill towards the lake I could see the same large wooden structure had been built on the edge of the lake like before forming stands for the spectators to watch from; the sounds of the crowd got steadily louder the closer we got. On the far side the same tents had been set up as before as well as the podium for the judges' table. Another table covered in a gold cloth was just at the water's edge where Cedric, Fleur and Krum were all sat waiting for the task to begin. Shoving his bag at me, Harry said a hasty goodbye and rushed over to join the other champions. I slowed to a stop and hunched over, out of breath. Harry had made it just in time.

'Well, all our champions are ready for the second task which will start on my whistle,' Ludo Bagman's Amplified voice suddenly rang out. 'They have precisely an hour to recover what was taken from them. On the count of three, then. One … two … three!'

I stood there and watched as the champions got up. Cedric, Fleur and Krum all ran into the water and dove in. Harry slowly made his way into the water, wading deeper into it until he came to a stop. What was he doing? He had eaten the Gillyweed, hadn't he? He was wasting time, he needed to get into the water and find Ron. A ripple of quiet jeers started to come from the waiting crowd. I watched, stunned Harry was just standing there waist deep in the water and not doing anything.

'Come on, Harry,' I muttered under my breath. 'Come on, do something …'

All of a sudden Harry grabbed at his neck. I started. What was happening? Was Harry OK? He looked like he was choking. I made a move to run to the lake but next moment Harry had thrown himself forwards and vanished into the water. He was gone. I stood there, unsure what was going to happen next. I glanced around. The judges had turned away and were conversing with each other. The crowd had also begun to talk amongst themselves. I saw there was nothing set up in a way that would allow us to watch was happening in the lake, no spells or enchantments cast for us to see what was going on under the water. Was that it? Did we now just have to wait for the champions to return? I looked back across the lake. I guess so.

The next hour felt the longest in my life. I had taken refuge at the bottom of the stands where some benches had been set up for the friends of the champions. I was sat alone with Krum, Fleur and Cedric's various friends as I knew Ron to be in the lake as Harry's hostage, and by now I had worked out that Hermione must have been taken as Krum's considering McGonagall had wanted to see her as well. I wondered who had been used for Cedric and Fleur. None of Fleur's usual gang of Beauxbatons students seemed to be missing. As for Cedric, I had a feeling maybe Cho had been taken? She had gone to the Yule Ball with him after all. I held back a groan of frustration. I sat there restlessly waiting. I hated not knowing what was going on in the water. If Harry was OK. If he'd found the others. It was all right for everyone else, they just had one person down in the lake. All three of my friends were down there!

'Look! Zere!' shouted on of Fleur's friends.

A figure had emerged from the water. It was Fleur. She stumbled out of the water on to the bank. She was coughing hard and could barely stand. And worryingly, she was alone. She hadn't managed to save her hostage. It looked like she'd been attacked. Her friends rushed to help her. They got her to her feet and walked her over to the tent where Madam Pomfrey was already waiting to heal any injuries they'd received. Madam Maxime left the judges to join her student. I looked at the clock. There was only fifteen minutes left.

'Come on, Harry,' I breathed, wringing my hands. 'You can do this. Come on.'

Time ticked by. The bell rang out. The hour was over. None of the other champions had returned.

Two heads broke the surface of the water. I jumped to my feet to see who it was. So did Krum and Cedric's friends. The figures were swimming towards the bank. It was Cedric. The crowd started to cheer. He was the first one back with his hostage. He struggled to swim to the bank as he helped the black-haired girl who he'd rescued. It was Cho. I was right, she had been his hostage. Cedric's friends ran down the bank and into the water to meet them. They too were then helped to Madam Pomfrey over at her tent while Krum's friends and I continued to wait. Minutes continued to tick by. Then a second shape burst out of the water but this time it wasn't human. What looked like the head of a shark thrashed to the surface before shrinking back to reveal Krum. He must have Transfigured himself for the task. With him was Hermione. A loud cheer came from the Durmstrang students. I rushed to the water, as did Krum's friends, and waded in to reach them. I grabbed Hermione's arm as she stumbled on the rocks and put it round my shoulders to help her stand.

'Hermione, are you OK?' I gasped. She was very pale, her skin cold to touch.

'Y-yes,' she stuttered. 'J-just c-cold. Harry,' she coughed, 'is he b-back yet?'

'No,' I told her. I put my free arm round Hermione's waist and led her over to Madam Pomfrey to get checked. 'He's not back yet.'

I left Hermione in Madam Pomfrey's hands and this time returned to the edge of the lake to wait for Harry. My eyes scanned the surface of the water for any sign of him. It was now more than twenty minutes since the hour had been up. I was getting worried. Had something happened to him? Had he been attacked too? Had the Gillyweed worn off too soon? Had he not managed to reach Ron? And what about Fleur's hostage? Was someone going to go in and get them now the hour was up? Surely the judges wouldn't let anything happen to the champions and the hostages.

A black mop of hair broke through the water and Harry finally resurfaced. Two more heads then appeared. Ron shook his wet red hair out of his eyes while a younger girl with silvery blonde hair looked scared and confused beside him. The Hogwarts students broke into cheers and applause. I ran into the water to help them. It was up to my knees when I reached them. I grabbed the little girl who looked like she couldn't swim and picked her up so she was at least out of the water while Harry and Ron supported each other back on to the shore. She was speaking in rushed panicked words I didn't understand. She was French, Fleur's hostage, and I realised it was probably her younger sister.

'What took you so long?' I asked Harry as we reached the bank.

'Harry decided to play hero,' said Ron. He collapsed on to the stones. 'Bloody idiot.'

Harry shot Ron a look from beneath his wet hair. I let out an exasperated sigh. That's why Harry had taken so long.

'Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?'

Fleur was being held back by Madame Maxime. Percy had appeared and was dragging Ron back to his feet to check him over. Dumbledore and Bagman were helping Harry. With a sharp shout in French, Fleur broke free of Madame Maxime and rushed over to where I was with Gabrielle. She took Gabrielle from me, saying something about Grindylows being the reason she didn't save her. With Gabrielle safely back with her sister I went over to the medical tent where Madam Pomfrey had dragged Harry and Ron who were now wrapped in blankets beside the rest of the champions and their casualties. Madam Pomfrey had just given Harry something causing steam to issue from his ears.

'Harry, well done!' Hermione as telling him. 'You did, you found out how, all by yourself!'

'Well –' Harry glanced at me; I raised my eyebrow. 'Yeah, that's right,' he then said loudly.

I looked round. Karkaroff was watching us. Fine, I'll let him off for that one.

'You haff a water-beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny.' Krum, who was beside Hermione, took the small insect out of her hair and threw it to one side. 'Are you –' but Hermione seemed not to be listening.

'You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry … Did it take you ages to find us?'

'No … I found you OK …'

'He just took the merpeople's song a bit too literally,' I finished for him. Harry sent me a disgruntled look. I sighed and gave him a small smile. I took the seat next to. 'I'm glad you're all right,' I said quietly. I gently nudged his shoulder with mine. He had a few cuts on his arm. The Grindylows must have got him too.

'I finished last, Jenna,' said Harry dully.

'Not technically,' I told him. I put my hand on his leg and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'Fleur never got past the Grindylows. That's why she didn't make it to rescue her sister. She resurfaced about halfway through the task, and since she didn't manage to reach her hostage, it means she comes last automatically.' I gave a half-hearted laugh. 'Shame you're not an Animagus like me; might have made the task a bit easier.'

'No kidding,' shivered Harry.

Over at the lake Dumbledore was crouched at the water's edge conversing with one of the merpeople. He was making the same horrible screechy sounds as them. When he stood, he called the other judges to joined him. I guess they had to discuss the fact that all the champions had failed to save their hostages within the allotted time, Fleur not managing to reach hers at all. They began to converse. As we waited Fleur, who had refused treatment for her cuts insisting her sister was seen to instead, approached us.

'You saved 'er,' she said, still breathless from the task. 'Even though she was not your 'ostage.' and she bent down and gave Harry two kisses on each cheek. 'And you, too –' she added, turning to Ron, '– you 'elped –' and she did the same to him. If Ron could ever turn a shade of red that matched his hair, Fleur's kiss had managed it. I shared a look with Hermione; for some reason, she looked furious.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision,' sounded the loud voice of Ludo Bagman. 'Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows …

'Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.'

A round of applause greeted Fleur's score.

'I deserve zero,' announced Fleur, shaking her silvery head.

'Mr Cedric Diggory,' continued Bagman, 'who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.' Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuffs. Cedric's mates were clapping him on the shoulder while Cho sat smiling beside him. 'We therefore award him forty-seven points.

'Mr Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.'

The Durmstrangs and a lot of the Slytherins cheered. Karkaroff looked smug.

'Mr Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect,' finished Bagman. 'He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own.'

Ron, Hermione and I all looked at Harry. I was proud of him for doing that. It showed he cared for their welfare. I just wish he hadn't been so stupid.

'Most of the judges,' said Bagman, giving a dark look over in Karkaroff's direction, 'feel that this shows outstanding moral fibre and merits full marks. However … Mr Potter's score is forty-five points.'

Harry started. Ron, Hermione and I stared at him. His need to ensure everyone was rescued had won him second place? Are you kidding? We took a moment to take it in then all of us started laughing and congratulating him along with the rest of the crowd, even if it was just for "outstanding moral fibre". Trust Harry to mess up completely but still come out on top. Fleur and Cedric were also applauding Harry's efforts while Krum looked a bit more sour than usual; I guess he didn't like being overtaken because of a technicality and his efforts to regain Hermione's attention fell on deaf ears.

'The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenthy-fourth of June,' announced Bagman over the still cheering crowds. 'The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.'

After all that the task was now over. Harry had managed to get through it in one piece, just. We were shepherded back up to the castle by Madam Pomfrey who was muttering all the way about getting the champions and the hostages back into dry clothes. I walked alongside the others, relieved they were all back on dry land, still laughing with each other as we teased Harry about his outstanding moral fibre. It hadn't been fun sitting on the side-lines of this task, not knowing what was happening. At least now there was only one task left, and this horrible tournament would finally be over.

If anything positive had come out of this tournament, it was the fact the Second Task had led to Ron finally sharing in some of Harry's fame. Being the person that had been taken for Harry, people were very interested in hearing Ron recount what happened to him that led to him being put in enchanted sleep and given over to the merpeople. It was quite obvious that he enjoyed the attention as with each retelling of the story the details got more and more fantastical from what actually happened to Ron telling anyone who'd listen that it was a thrilling tale of kidnap and duels with the merpeople. It certainly had girls like Parvati, Lavender and Padma hanging on his every word; Padma appeared to have forgiven him for the Yule Ball as she now said hello to him whenever they passed in the corridor.

'Oh, Ron,' Padma breathed after yet another retelling, 'you must have been so scared.' A part of me was bit disappointed in Padma for seemingly believing Ron's tall tales. But I guess anyone who didn't know Ron as well as I did would be easily impressed by it.

'Ah, I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted,' he assured her.

'What were you going to do, snore at them?' said Hermione bluntly. Padma looked at her. Ron's ears went bright red. I snickered. Well, it wasn't going to last forever, was it? Needless to say, Ron's tale went back to its original version shortly afterwards.

We received a reply from Dad in the first week of March. Winds had hindered the postal owls causing several to be blown off course and deliveries to be late. The owl who had brought Dad's note hastily flew away after Harry had taken it. The note was short, only long enough to tell us that Dad was coming to or already in Hogsmeade and wanted to meet us at the stile near Dervish and Banges. I didn't like this, and nor did Harry judging by his tense reaction to the note. Why was Dad risking being caught to see us? What was so important that he had to tell us in person? I had a bad feeling about this. Harry pocketed the letter and we got up to go to Potions.

There was a huddle of the usual Slytherins standing by the door to the Potions classroom when we got there. They seemed to be looking at something. Every so often a snigger came from the group. Whatever it was they were looking at was apparently very amusing to them. They must have heard as coming because when we reached the classroom, Pansy looked up excitedly. She spotted us and a wide grin broke over her face. The rest of the Slytherins also noticed us. In amongst them was Daphne. I hadn't seen her outside of class since the Yule Ball; for some reason she had a concerned look on her face.

'You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!' she called and she threw a magazine over to us.

Hermione caught the magazine. It was a copy of Witch Weekly, the wizarding equivalent of a Muggle gossip magazine. Snape appeared at the doorway to the classroom and hollered us to get inside. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I took a table at the back of the classroom. We waited for Snape to turn his back then Hermione pulled out the magazine under the table. She flicked through the pages until we found what the Slytherins had been laughing at. It was an article with the bold title: HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE.

A boy like no other, perhaps – yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter.
Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found
solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would
shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot
satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgaria Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World
Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious
Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists he has
'never felt this way about any other girl'.

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms which have captured these unfortunate
boys' interest.

'She's really ugly,' says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, 'but she'd be well up to
make a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it.'

Love Potions are of course banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate
these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart
upon a worthier candidate. Sadly though, I can report, it is unlikely to be his childhood friend, Jenny Black, who
I can exclusively reveal is the half-breed Maledictus daughter of notorious murder Sirius Black who last year
made his infamous escape from Azkaban prison, and has been caught in several dalliances with other
Hogwarts Champion and Harry's direct competition, Cedric Diggory.

My mouth fell open. My heart jumped into my throat. How did she know that? How did Rita Skeeter know that I was Sirius Black's daughter? How long had she even known about this and why had she only just now published it? And more importantly, how did she know I was potentially a Maledictus? I hadn't even had the chance to ask Lupin or Granddad about that, or even talked to the others about it, so I didn't even know if it was true. The only person I'd admitted those things to was Cedric. Had he told her? And now thanks to that article, anyone who read Witch Weekly would know both that I was a half-breed and who my dad was. I knew Hermione had challenged her but why had I been dragged into this?

My heart sank. I swallowed as I felt a rush of emotion wash over me. Beside me, Ron was admonishing Hermione who seemed to be taking the article a lot better than I was.

'She's made you some sort of – of scarlet woman!'

'Scarlet woman?' repeated Hermione. She snorted.

'It's what my mum calls them,' muttered Ron.

'If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch,' said Hermione. She tossed the magazine on to an empty chair. 'What a pile of rubbish.'

We started on our potions. I didn't say anything. I kept my head down as I prepared my ingredients.

'There's something funny, though,' said Hermione. 'How could Rita Skeeter have known …?'

I glanced at her. Known which particular part?

'Know what?' asked Ron. 'You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?'

'Don't be stupid,' snapped Hermione. 'No, it's just … how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer? Or –' Hermione stopped suddenly and looked at me. I stared back silently. 'Jenna …' she breathed, 'your secret. How did she find out? And that stuff about Cedric and Sirius …'

'I don't know,' I muttered. My voice was dry as I spoke. 'The only time I've mentioned it recently was in the library and after the task. I have no idea how she could have found out about it or Cedric.'

Hermione stared at me, shocked. Ron, however, was focusing on a slightly less important fact.

'When did Krum ask you to visit him?' he demanded, ignoring the fact Hermione was more concerned about me right now. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake,' she said impatiently. 'After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to –'

'And what did you say?' demanded Ron.

'And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else,' Hermione continued. 'But how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there – like she couldn't have found out about Jenna's ability – or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak, maybe she sneaked into the grounds to watch the second task …'

'And what did you say?' repeated Ron.

'Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were OK to –'

'Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger,' came a cold voice behind us, 'I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor.'

We hadn't noticed Snape had appeared behind us while we'd been talking. The class was now watching us.

'Ah … reading magazines under the table as well?' said Snape. He picked up the copy of Witch Weekly. 'A further ten points from Gryffindor … oh, but of course ...' Snape flicked through its pages. He found Skeeter's article. I swallowed. 'Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings …'

I silently begged for Snape not to read the article. I glanced at the Slytherins. They were all laughing. Snape smiled, an unpleasant smirk on his thin lips.

'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache …' he read aloud, 'dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? A boy like no other, perhaps …'

And he did it. He read the article out loud for everyone in the class to hear. The Slytherins were now in hysterics. Already having read the contents of the article, the retelling by Snape was clearly too much for them to contain their laughter. Neville, Dean and Seamus were watching us. Parvati and Lavender were whispering quickly to each other. I wanted Snape to stop. To not read out what the article said that would expose me to the rest of my house if they hadn't already seen the article.

'Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate,' finished Snape. 'How very touching.' Please let it end there. Don't continue. I would give anything for Snape to just stop right there. But, of course, sensing the opportunity, Snape read on that little bit more. 'Sadly though, I can report, it is unlikely to be his childhood friend, Jenny Black … half-breed Maledictus daughter of notorious murder Sirius Black …'

Snape's black eyes turned to me.

'How … intriguing …'

Snape rolled up the magazine. The Slytherins' laughter continued.

'Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than your tangled love lives,' said Snape. 'Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there beside Miss Parkinson. Black – join Malfoy. Potter – that table in front of my desk. Move. Now.'

Reluctantly I gathered up my potion ingredients, cauldron and bag and moved to the free seat on Malfoy's table with Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy had a wide smirk on his face.

'Watch out,' he told Crabbe and Goyle loudly. Snape didn't react as he currently was threateningly leaning over Harry. 'Make sure you don't let any of her things touch you. Don't want her half-breed germs contaminating your potions.'

Normally I wouldn't have let Malfoy get away with saying something like that to me, but this time, I had no fight in me now I was facing a potentially massive fallout from Skeeter's article over all the accusations she'd made about me: who my Dad was; apparent moments with Cedric which were completely false; and the fact I was a half-breed.

I kept my head down for the rest of double Potions. It was only when there was a knock at the door that I looked away from my work. It was Karkaroff.

'We need to talk,' he told Snape shortly, striding through the classroom over to him. Despite speaking in a low voice, it wasn't enough in the quiet classroom.

'I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff –'

'I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus.'

'After the lesson,' snapped Snape.

I watched Snape and Karkaroff, my brow furrowed. What is all that about? As curious as I was, it wasn't enough for me to not be aware that class was almost over and I needed to finish my potion. Karkaroff lingered for the rest of the class. He seemed determined to not let Snape get away from him. Snape continued as if he wasn't there, swooping around each table like an overgrown bat. When the bell had gone, I bottled a sample and left it on Snape's desk. I took a final glance at Snape and Karkaroff, who had now ambushed him at his desk, then grabbed my bag and left the dungeons.

I re-joined Ron and Hermione on the way up to the Great Hall for dinner. It was only when we reached it that we realised Harry wasn't with us. I groaned. He must have found some way to stay behind so he could eavesdrop on Karkaroff and Snape. Sure enough, he appeared moments later. He ran down the Great Hall to where we were waiting for him at the Gryffindor table. He dropped into a seat next to Ron and told us what had been said. Karkaroff had shown Snape his left forearm, saying that something was clearer on it that hadn't been previously. It was the same thing he'd apparently shown him back at the Yule Ball and Snape knew what it was. While we weren't entirely sure what it could be, all we knew for sure was that it probably had something to do with Karkaroff's past as a Death Eater. The question was, what did that have to do with Snape?

I got up the next day relieved that it was the Hogsmeade visit. I was not ready to face what the consequences of Skeeter's article could be and so this was a brief calm before the inevitable storm. I was also going to get to see Dad which, as worried as I was about him being in Hogsmeade, I was looking forward to. If I ever needed a parental figure, now was the time. I walked down to the village with Harry, Ron and Hermione and Harry's bag full of food we had snuck from dinner the previous night for Dad as he had requested in his letter. We took a brief stop at Gladrags Wizardwear so Harry could get Dobby a thank you pair of socks for his help with the second task before walking up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and towards the fence that marked the edge of the village.

The stile we were to meet Dad was at the end of a long dirt lane. I had never been this far out of the village before. We turned the corner. A large dog with shaggy black fur was standing on its hind legs, its front paws resting on the top of the fence. In its mouth was what looked like a selection of newspapers. When the dog saw us, its tail started to wag and it let out a muffled bark. We climbed over the stile and the dog greeted me and Harry before eagerly sniffing Harry's bag having smelt the food. Then it turned around and trotted off down the scrubby path towards the rocky foot of the nearby mountain. We followed. The ground was covered in large rocks and mossy outcrops, the grass long and overgrown. We followed the dog as it started to climb up the mountain which was a lot easier said than done and we were all sweating by the time the dog came to a stop and slipped out of sight into a hidden cave.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I squeezed through the tight gap in the rocks and into the cave the dog had gone into. It was dark with only a small fire providing some light and cooler inside than the outside air. Deeper inside I saw tethered to a large rock by a rope was Buckbeak. Dad must have still been using him to get around. That explained how he'd managed to get to Hogsmeade so quickly. We bowed to him and received one back. Hermione went to stroke him having formed a bond with him when she'd helped him escape last year. I, however, was staring at the man now standing in the place of the dog. Dad looked more ragged then last time I'd seen him at Moonlake Cottage, his robes worn and once again hanging off him slightly as he had probably missed a lot of meals. His black hair had grown out as had his beard. Nevertheless he was smiling.

Harry handed over his bag and Dad tucked hungrily into the food we'd brought for him, telling us with a grin he'd been living off rats for quite some time. I wrinkled my nose at the thought. We had more pressing matters though and Harry started off by asking what he was even doing here in Hogsmeade.

'Fulfilling my duty as godfather,' said Sirius, tossing aside a chicken bone. 'Don't worry about me, I'm pretending to be a loveable stray.'

'Dad, you're Animagus is a large black hound the size of a wolf that resembles the Grim,' I said. 'Your form doesn't look like the friendliest of dogs.' Dad shrugged.

'I can be unthreatening when I need to be,' he said. 'Just ask that barmaid down the Three Broomsticks.'

'What if they catch you?' implored Harry. 'What if you're seen?'

'You four and Dumbledore are the only ones round here who know I'm an Animagus,' said Sirius.

I frowned, unconvinced. Ron, who had been looking at the newspapers Dad had with him, passed them over for the rest of us to have a look out. There were two different copies of the Daily Prophet. One bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch while the other was reporting on the Ministry witch who had gone missing months ago, Bertha Jorkins. They were dated within the last couple of weeks, meaning Bertha still hadn't been found and Crouch had not yet returned to work. Both articles were highly suspicious of the two separate events, detailing that nothing had been said and the Ministry was refusing to comment on the circumstances around their respective illness and disappearance.

'He can't be that ill if he managed to get up here,' said Harry.

'My brother's Crouch's personal assistant,' said Ron. 'He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.'

'Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close,' said Harry. 'The night my name came out of the Goblet …'

'Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?' said Hermione tartly, stroking Buckbeak. 'I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now – bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him.'

'Hermione's obsessed with house-elves,' Ron told Dad. Hermione sent him a look.

'Crouch sacked his house-elf?' Sirius then asked.

'Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup,' said Harry. 'She was in the top box where we had been sat during the match. She'd been told to keep a seat saved for Crouch even though she was afraid of heights but he never turned up to the match and Winky was left there on her own. I guess she went back to their tent when the match was over. After the match, there was a riot. Some of Voldemort's old supporters turned up and started firing curses around the campsite and torturing the Muggle family who worked there. We escaped into the forest with the crowds while the Ministry wizards there dealt with them. While we were there I realised my wand was missing. When things had died down, someone cast the Dark Mark over the campsite near to where we were waiting. They Disapparated though, and Crouch's house-elf was found Stunned with my wand in the trees. She'd disobeyed Crouch and ran into the forest to escape the chaos and he sacked her because of it.'

Dad thought through what Harry had told him. He paced the width of the cave once or twice.

'Let me get this straight,' he then said. 'You first saw the elf in. the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?'

'Right,' we confirmed.

'But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?'

'No,' said Harry. 'I think he said he'd been too busy.'

Dad continued to pace.

'Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the top box?'

'Erm …' Harry paused. 'No. I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars. Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the top box?'

'It's possible,' said Sirius.

'Winky didn't steal that wand!' said Hermione suddenly.

'The elf wasn't the only one in that box,' said Sirius. 'Who else was sitting behind you?'

'Loads of people,' said Harry. 'Some Bulgarian ministers … Cornelius Fudge … the Malfoys …'

'The Malfoys!' said Ron triumphantly. 'I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!'

'After what happened with that diary?' I scoffed. 'I think Malfoy's dad's probably bit less careless with magical objects after that incident with Voldemort's personal property.' The diary he'd put in Ginny's cauldron.

'Anyone else?' Sirius persisted.

'No one,' said Harry.

'Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman,' said Hermione.

'I don't know anything about Bagman,' muttered Sirius, 'except that he used to be a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. What's he like?'

'He's OK,' shrugged Harry. 'He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Does he, now?' Dad frowned. 'I wonder why he'd do that?'

'Says he's taken a liking to me,' said Harry.

'We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared,' said Hermione. 'Remember?'

'Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?' said Ron. 'The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite.'

'How d'you know?' shot Hermione. 'How d'you know where he Disapparated to?'

'Come off it,' said Ron, 'are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?'

'It's more likely he did that Winky.'

Dad held up a hand before another argument broke out between Ron and Hermione.

'When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?' he asked.

'Went to look in the bushes,' said Harry, 'but there wasn't anyone else there.'

'I'd been in the area nearest to where Winky was found,' I added. 'I'd been separated from the others and was with Cedric Diggory. We'd heard rustling and then the Mark appeared. After we were found by Cedric's dad, Crouch went to almost the exact same area we'd been minutes before. He tried to blame us initially.'

'Of course,' muttered Sirius, 'of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf … and then he sacked her?'

'Yes,' said Hermione heatedly. 'He sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled –'

'Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!' snapped Ron, but Dad shook his head.

'She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron,' he told us. 'If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.'

What a curious thing to say, I thought.

'All these absences of Barty Crouch's … he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament and then stops coming to that, too … it's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak.'

Buckbeak gave a reproachful squawk. Dad hushed him.

'D'you know Crouch, then?' asked Harry.

For some reason Dad's face darkened. It made he look more like that man I'd first met last year. A shiver ran down my spine. What did Crouch have to do with Dad?

'Oh, I know Crouch all right,' he said darkly. 'He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban – without a trial.'

'What?' said Ron, Hermione and me.

'You're kidding!' said Harry.

'No, I'm not,' said Sirius. He paused to take another bite of food. 'Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?'

'No wonder Percy looks up to him,' I said, glancing at the others. 'Percy was always a stickler for the rules at Hogwarts. Crouch must be some kind of idol for him if he used to be the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

'He was tipped as the next Minister for Magic,' said Sirius. 'He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical – and power-hungry. Oh, never a Voldemort supporter. No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side. … well, you wouldn't understand … you're too young …'

'That's what my dad said at the World Cup,' said Ron. 'Try us, why don't you?'

For some reason, Dad grinned.

'All right, I'll try you …' Dad paced once more up and down the cave. 'Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing … the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere … panic … confusion … that's how it used to be.

'Well, times like that bring out the best in some people, and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning – I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers – powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was hand straight to the Dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorised the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark side. He had his supporters, mind you – plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for him to take over as Minister for Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job.

'But then something rather unfortunate happened …' and Dad gave a grim smile. 'Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their. Way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.'

'Crouch's son was caught?' gasped Hermione.

'Yup,' said Sirius. 'Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while … got to know his own son.'

Dad paused again to eat some bread.

'Was his son a Death Eater?' asked Harry.

'No idea,' shrugged Sirius. 'I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. They boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters – but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf.'

'Did Crouch try to get his son off?' asked Hermione.

Dad laughed.

'Crouch let his son off?' he barked. 'I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione. Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go, he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister for Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again – doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial and, by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy … then he sent him straight to Azkaban.'

'He gave his own son to the Dementors?' asked Harry.

'That's right,' nodded Sirius. 'I saw the Dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though … they all went quiet in the end … except when they shrieked in their sleep …'

Dad fell silent.

'So he's still in Azkaban?' said Harry.

'No,' said Sirius. 'No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in.'

'He died?'

'He wasn't the only one,' said Sirius. 'Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the Dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterwards. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The Dementors buried him outside the fortress, I watched them do it.

Dad threw away the crust of bread and took a long drink from the flask of pumpkin juice we'd brought him.

'So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had made it,' he continued, wiping his mouth. 'One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister for Magic … next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonoured, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic towards him, and started asking how nice a young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Co-operation.'

There was a long silence. I sat there unsure of what to think about everything Dad had told us about what it was like during the First Wizarding War and how Crouch had been so obsessed with working against the Dark side that he even sentenced his own son to life imprisonment. What honestly possesses a man to do that? But it explained so much about him now that his treatment of Winky didn't seem so surprising given the memories that must have been brought back for him when she was found under the Dark Mark, and yet even harsher than before given how loyal she was and still is to him.

'Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards,' said Harry finally. Dad nodded.

'Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him,' said Sirius. 'If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater.'

'And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!' said Ron with a gloat of triumph.

'Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all,' said Sirius.

'Yeah, it does!' insisted Ron.

'No, it doesn't,' I said. 'Snape is a teacher. Dumbledore wouldn't hire a former Death Eater to teach the students. If anyone is likely to be under Crouch's scrutiny it's Karkaroff, not Snape. We know he was one!'

'Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the Tournament?' said Sirius firmly. 'It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him,' he told us, countering my argument.

'So you think Snape could be up to something, then?' asked Harry.

'Look, I don't care what you say,' said Hermione, taking my side. 'Dumbledore trusts Snape –'

'Oh, come off it, Hermione,' said Ron impatiently. 'I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him –'

'Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?'

'I dunno – maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out –'

'What d'you think, Sirius?' said Harry, cutting the pair of them off.

'I think they've both got a point,' said Sirius. 'Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was.'

Harry and Ron grinned at each other. I frowned at Dad's description of Snape. Talk about not letting old grudges die. He was almost as bad as Snape was.

'Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters. Rosier and Wilkes – they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges – they were a married couple – they're in Azkaban.'

I jumped. Lestrange. I knew that name. I had heard it before. Lupin I think had mentioned them and that I was related to them somehow, through marriage of a cousin on Dad's side of the family so another female Black. Names started reeling through my head as I tried to think of any female relatives I knew of. The only one I could think of was Bellatrix. A weight suddenly dropped in my chest. If the Lestranges had been Death Eaters, what exactly had they done in support of Voldemort to wind up in prison? A horrible thought occurred to me answering my own question as I remembered back to our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class with Moody, and Neville's reaction to the Cruciatus Curse, and what Moody had then said to me when I stopped him.

I see the resemblance. Very much like her. She'd know all about that curse, wouldn't she?

No … I thought, please no …

Dad was still listing off names, unaware of the thoughts currently going through my head.

'Avery – from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperious Curse – he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater – not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble.

'Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet,' said Ron.

'Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!' added Harry. 'Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was.'

'He showed Snape something on his arm?' asked Sirius. He ran his hand distractedly through his dirty hair. 'Well, I've no idea what that's about … but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers …' Dad stared at the cave wall, then grimaced. 'There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape,' he said reluctantly, 'and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach. At Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort.'

'Why are Moody and Crouch so keent to get into Snape's office, then?' Ron challenged.

'Well,' said Sirius, thinking, 'I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody.'

'Yeah, we know,' I muttered.

'I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though … he's a different matter … is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not … what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up to the top box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the Tournament?'

Dad fell silent once more. Behind us Buckbeak was scratching at the ground at the leftover chicken bones and bread crusts.

'You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant?' he asked Ron. 'Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?'

'I can try,' shrugged Ron. 'Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch.'

'And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it,' Sirius added, pointing at the other copy of the Daily Prophet.

'Bagman told me they hadn't,' said Harry.

'Yes, he's quoted in the article in there,' agreed Sirius. 'Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory was. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all – quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble, she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic … maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long …'

Dad sighed and rubbed his eyes.

'What's the time?'

'It's half past three,' said Hermione.

'You'd better get back to school,' Sirius told us. 'Now, listen … I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission, it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.'

'No one's tried to attack me so far, except for a dragon and a couple of Grindylows,' said Harry.

Dad scowled at Harry's flippancy.

'I don't care … I'll breathe freely again when this Tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, OK?'

'Snuffles?' I repeated. 'Not really the kind of name that matches your Animagus form.'

'Better than Padfoot,' said Sirius firmly. 'There are people on both sides aware of my school nickname. It would be foolish of you to use it.'

I flushed, unsure if Dad was telling me off or not. It certainly felt like he was. All I'd meant was he could have chosen something a bit more fitting for the large shaggy black dog he transformed into instead of "Snuffles".

Dad transformed back into Snuffles and walked us back down the mountain towards the stile where we had met him. He allowed each of us to stroke him once on the head, Harry getting a slightly longer chance than me I noticed, before running off back into the long grass.

'Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?' Ron mused as we walked back to the castle. 'But maybe he doesn't care … it'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son.'

'Percy's a lot of things, Ron,' I said, 'but even surely Percy can't agree with Crouch going against his own family?'

'Jenna's right,' said Hermione. 'Percy would never throw any of his family to the Dementors.'

'I don't know,' shrugged Ron. 'If he thought we were standing in the way of his career … Percy's really ambitious, you know …'

'How come he wasn't in Slytherin, then?' I asked. 'Slytherins are meant to be ambitious.'

'Yeah, they're also in the Dark Arts a lot, which I know Percy at least isn't interested in that,' said Ron, clearly nettled at my suggestion.

We reached the Entrance Hall. The smell of hot food was wafting through from the Great Hall.

'Poor old Snuffles,' sighed Ron. 'He must really like you, Harry … imagine to live off rats.'

I stopped mid step, caught off guard by Ron's words. A strange twinge went through my chest. What did Ron mean by that? I mean … yeah, Dad was Harry's godfather and it was good that he was looking out for him but … he wasn't just Harry's godfather and Ron knew that. They knew he was my dad too and yet he didn't say it was nice I had got to see him too after being on the run for ages. I know the conversation had mainly revolved around Harry and the task and everything to do with Crouch but Dad had been there not just for Harry's sake.

Right?

---

AN: so this chapter came about a lot quicker than I anticipated as I ended up having two weeks off work due to getting COVID. I generally like how it panned out, acknowledging small things like how awkward the second task was for people watching and I even played to some fan theories that whenever Ron makes flippant remarks he's actually predicting things that happen (Tom Riddle killing Moaning Myrtle for example), and that Percy should have been a Slytherin. It was also fun to develop Cedric and Jenna's relationship a bit more to add to the jealousy Cho would feel towards Jenna and vice versa in the next book by Rita Skeeter stirring the romance cauldron even more. I enjoyed this chapter a lot more than before and GOF as a whole, I am liking my edits to the original story.