Harry spends the morning giving Mrs. Weasley and Bill a tour of the castle grounds. They're both in good spirits, laughing and reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts. Harry smiles along with them, but can't find it in him to join their merriment. His thoughts are clouded with Mr. Crouch and the map rolled up in his robe pocket.
If Mr. Diggory is correct, then the Mr. Crouch on the map isn't a ghost, and Harry's lost his most plausible explanation for his reappearance. He shakes his brain an explanation, but every reason grows increasingly implausible. Could he be here in secret under an invisibility cloak? No, Moody would've seen him. Is he an Animagus? He's not registered, and it seems unlikely he'd break the law and become an unregistered one. Maybe it's his Patronus, or maybe the map is starting to show its age?
"Look how peaceful the lake is today," Mrs. Weasley says. "You know, Bill, your Father and I used to take strolls along the shore when it was sunny like this."
"Charlie and I used to toss in scraps of food to attract the giant squid. It never worked, but I bet the fish were pleased," Bill says. "Hey Harry, did you catch a glimpse of it during the second task?"
"Huh?" Harry gawks at them, embarrassed he's caught half-listening to their conversation. "Er… no, sorry. I only saw some grindylows and the merfolk."
They carry on like this, making pleasant chit-chat while Harry gives himself a headache pondering Crouch's reappearance, until the early afternoon, when they return to the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione and Ron, now finished with their exams, eye him with anticipation.
"So, what did Moody say this morning about Crouch?" Ron asks as he joins them at Gryffindor table.
"Er... nothing," he says. "Sorry, I didn't get a chance to talk to him. We got a bit side-tracked. But I think Moody knows he's here, at least."
Hermione raises an eyebrow. "You think he knows?"
"Well, I overheard him and Dumbledore talking at breakfast. Dumbledore thanked him for taking care of something unpleasant this morning, so I'm assuming he means-"
"Took care of what?" Ginny asks, her words garbled from a mouthful of potatoes.
"Are you talking about the stinksap pellet incident?" George asks. "Because that was all Peeves. Fred and I had nothing to do with it."
Fred nods. "Yeah, we've got an alibi and everything. We were in our dorm with Lee, prepping the Filibuster Fireworks show for tonight."
Mrs. Weasley frowns. "You were what ?"
"Nothing Mother!"
Harry glances at Ron and Hermione, and they silently agree to continue their discussion after lunch. They slip away from the Weasleys as soon as they finish eating, claiming they need to practice for tonight.
The Gryffindor common room is near empty, with his housemates presumably deciding to take advantage of the nice weather and spend the afternoon outside. Harry unrolls the map on a table by the fireplace. He hasn't been able to check it since this morning. Once he says the magic words, there's no telling what they might find.
"Well, here goes nothing." Harry points his wand at the map. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
Slowly ink ripples through the parchment until Hogwarts is revealed. Harry's gaze darts to the staff wing.
There's only one dot in Moody's quarters, and it's labeled Alastor Moody.
Harry sighs and flops backwards into his chair. "Oh thank Merlin, he's gone."
"Uh… might want to double check that, Mate." Ron points at the Quidditch Pitch, where a dot labeled Bartemius Crouch stands in the center of the field.
A knot forms in Harry's stomach, tightening until it's difficult to breathe. He wants to swipe the map off the table and chuck it into the fireplace. He does not have the time or patience to deal with Mr. Crouch- or whatever it is- roaming freely around the castle grounds. Not now, not today, and certainly not with the Third Task a few hours away.
"So, he's a ghost," Hermione says. "He has to be. That's the only way he could've gone from Moody's office to the Pitch without anyone spotting him."
"No, he can't be," Harry says, then relays his earlier conversation with Mr. Diggory.
"What if he died before he had a chance to register?" Ron suggests.
Harry shakes his head. "He'd been ill for months before he disappeared. I imagine he would've thought about his er… final wishes. If he wanted to be a ghost, he would've filed the paperwork with the Ministry."
"You're right. He was a stickler for all those Ministry rules and regulations. That's why Percy admired him so much," Ron huffs and taps his fingers on the table. "I bet this map is busted."
"You know, you could be onto something," Hermione muses. "One of the charms could be wearing off. We could ask Snuffles about it, though- he probably wouldn't get back to us for a few days."
Ron and Hermione fix their gaze on him, but he's just as stumped as they are. If only Lupin could've come today, or they could openly communicate with Sirius. They could explain if the enchantments they placed on the map came with an expiration date. He studies the map once more. Their three dots gathered in the Gryffindor common room. Ron's family is in the Great Hall, still at Gryffindor table. The Diggorys and Cho are in the North Courtyard, Cedric's mother posing them for a picture behind one of the elaborate stained glass windows.
"I don't think it's broken," Harry says at last. "Everyone else is showing up in the right place. The only thing that doesn't is Mr. Crouch. And the last time someone who wasn't supposed to be here showed up on the map, it turned out it was really him."
Hermione nods. "You're right. We can't say it's broken just because it's convenient."
"Then what do you suppose is going on?" Ron asks.
"I dunno," he says, then shakes his head. "I think we need to have a chat with Moody, or Crouch, or I suppose we could go straight to Dumbledore."
"Looks like Dumbledore's in a meeting," Ron points at the Beauxbatons carriage, where inside around a large conference table are Dumbledore, the other Headmasters, and Minister Fudge, "but Moody and Crouch are still options."
"Why don't you talk to Moody?" Hermione suggests. "Ron and I will take Crouch. If you're caught near the Quidditch Pitch so close to the Task, it might look like you're trying to cheat."
The stench from this morning is absent from the staff hallway when Harry arrives. All remnants of Peeves' prank are scrubbed out of existence. In hindsight, it should've been obvious that's what Moody and Dumbledore were discussing at breakfast. Though this begs the question: why weren't they talking about Crouch? A missing person shows up at Hogwarts, and instead of getting to the bottom of it, they're calmly discussing Peeves over tea?
Moody's office door is closed. Harry knocks.
"Hello, Professor Moody? Do you have a moment?"
He waits, thinking over how best to approach him. His earlier plan of showing him the map is a no-go, as Ron and Hermione took it with them to keep an eye on Crouch. He has to question Moody in a way that's firm, but not accusatory. Aside from acting a bit odd this morning, Harry doesn't have any tangible proof of wrong-doing on Moody's part, and he'd like to believe there's an innocent explanation to all this.
"Er… Professor Moody? Hello?"
Harry knocks again, louder this time. Through the thick wooden door Moody's secrecy sensors whirr and buzz, but there's no movement, no chair scraping on the hardwood floor or artificial leg thudding as he crosses the room. He was in his office not five minutes ago. Harry checked the map right before he left. Even if Moody left momentarily to visit the staff lounge down the hall, he'd still be able to hear him.
"Professor Moody. It's rather urgent, if you don't mind."
Harry frowns. Now this is personal, as if he's deliberately being ignored. Even if Moody is in the middle of an important task and can't be disturbed, he could at least tell him to come back later. Harry bangs on the door again, his fist stinging from the effort.
"Professor Moody! I know you're in there! Open up, I need to talk to you!"
"What in Merlin's name are you up to, Potter?" Snape looms over him with a clenched jaw and severe scowl. Of course, of all the Professors he could have attracted, it had to be him.
"I was trying to talk to Professor Moody."
"Yes, I gathered that from your attempt to knock down his door. What- may I ask- do you need to speak with him so urgently about?"
"I err… wanted some advice for the task tonight.
Snape scoffs. "Hasn't he helped you enough, letting you rifle through my private ingredients whenever it strikes your fancy? You still owe me for the missing gillyweed, and boomslang skin, and lacewing flies."
"Right, er… sorry about that, but I really need to speak with Professor Moody."
"Professor Moody is busy assisting with preparations for the Third Task," Snape says airily. "Perhaps this will serve as a valuable lesson for why you shouldn't put important tasks off until the last minute."
"So he isn't in his office?" he says, ignoring the jab.
"Is that not what I just said?"
"You're certain?"
"Yes, I'm absolutely certain."
"...can you check?"
Snape glares at him, tapping his fingers on his forearm without saying a word. For a moment, Harry wonders if he's considering it. Then Snape closes his eyes and inhales sharply. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your refusal to take no for an answer."
"But-"
"Shall I make it 20?"
Harry turns on his heel and when he's out of Snape's line of sight, he flashes a rude hand gesture in his direction. Harry's blood boils, anger and adrenaline surge through him, and it's not until he plops down into an armchair in Gryffindor tower he realizes he failed to complete his one and only task: talk to Moody.
It takes Ron and Hermione ages to get back- at least it feels that way. The common room clock confirms it's been less than 15 minutes. Harry passes the time casting spells at the fireplace, lighting it up and putting it out. Incendio, aguamenti, incendio, aguamenti, over and over. He's a bored muggle child playing with a light switch.
It doesn't make sense. Moody was in his office, Harry's certain he was. Yet Snape insisted he wasn't. Snape could've been mistaken- or lying- but if that's the case, why didn't Moody answer the door?
When Ron and Hermione finally return, Harry has moved on to levitating the sofa. Their entrance breaks his concentration, and it crashes down with a harsh thunk. Three of the four wooden legs snap, but he'll repair them later, after he debriefs with his friends.
"How'd it go?" Harry asks.
"It could've gone better…" Hermione sighs. "Crouch was somewhere inside the maze, so there wasn't much we could do. It's not like we could chase after him."
"We walked around the outside, but we couldn't see anything," Ron says. "You weren't kidding, those hedge walls are enormous."
"There was one bright side at least: Hagrid, McGonagall, and Sprout were in the maze too, setting up for tonight, we suspect. Maybe they'll run into each other without us needing to intervene?"
"Was Moody with them?" he asks.
"Moody?" Ron says. He shares a puzzled look with Hermione. "But didn't you just talk to him?"
"I tried to, but…" he frowns and recounts his confrontation with Snape.
"Well, we definitely didn't see Moody in the maze," Ron says, "but maybe he was somewhere else in the castle?"
Hermione unfolds the map and smooths it out on the coffee table. Moody is still in that same damn corner of his office, not having moved a fraction of an inch since the last time they checked.
"Ugh…" Harry growls. "I'm sick of this. Let's just practice jinxes until they move. One of them is bound to poke their head out eventually."
Unfortunately for them, Moody and Crouch seem comfortable right where they are. Crouch bounces all over the Quidditch Pitch, but he doesn't leave and doesn't cross paths with any of their professors. Moody remains in his office, stationary as a statue. It's infuriating, and it distracts him from his spell practice. He falls into a habit of glancing at the map every few minutes, hoping for some sign of movement, only to be let down and frustrated when nothing has changed.
This goes on for hours, until it's almost time for dinner.
"Look!" Hermione says, pointing at Bartemius Crouch's now moving dot. He's finally left the pitch and is ambling up the path to the castle, in perfectly plain view of anyone nearby- and there are plenty of people nearby. There's a group of fifth years several paces ahead of him, some Durmstrang students lounging nearby on their houseboat deck, and Hagrid in his front garden with Fang at his heels. Crouch pauses as he passes Hagrid's garden, then… yes, he strays off the path and stops in front of Hagrid.
"We have to talk to Hagrid, now ."
Harry scoops up the map and the three of them scramble out the portrait hole. His classmates shoot them quizzical looks as they dash by. Harry runs straight through The Fat Friar and shouts an apology as he continues down the corridor. Pansy and Draco make some snarky remarks as they pass, but Harry doesn't bother to stop and acknowledge them. He won't let anything stop him from getting to Hagrid as fast as his feet will carry him.
"Harry!"
Nothing except his partners, who rush towards him with equal haste.
"Harry, where have you been? We've been looking all over for you," Cho says, her expression full of worry. Looking at her hits him with a surge of affection, and regret. He meant to update her earlier, but she got lost in the shuffle.
"Sorry, but can we chat later? There's something really important we have to do right now. I'll fill you in later, promise."
"Is it about the map?" Cedric asks.
Harry gapes at him. He didn't want to rope him into this mess with the Third Task so close. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"Cho filled me in. Harry, there's something we need to tell you. We think it might explain what you saw, but we have to ask you something first."
"I..." Harry glances between his friends and his partners. He's been waiting for this breakthrough with Crouch all afternoon, but Cho and Cedric have had their own epiphany, and he can't just write them off. "Do you guys mind talking to Hagrid without me?" He asks Ron and Hermione. They nod, and Harry clings to the map as they continue on their way.
After making something of a scene in the Entryway, the three of them retreat to a more secluded courtyard for their talk. It takes Harry a moment to recognize this place, the rose garden from the Yule Ball. It's amazing how different it looks without the twinkling fairy lights, fragrant blooms, and delicate snowflakes swirling all around them. A warm and inviting winter wonderland. Now it's an ordinary garden in an ordinary courtyard.
They sit on a stone bench beside the fountain's edge. The spigots are off and the water is still. The songbirds perched on top of the fountain fly away. It's only the three of them, Cedric on his left, and Cho on his right.
"So… you guys think you know what's going on with Crouch?" He asks.
Cedric nods. "But first… I have a confession to make."
Cho reaches across him and places her hand on Cedric's thigh. "Hey, it's not a confession. You didn't do anything wrong."
"But I did Cho! I trusted him!"
"And how could you have known not to? We didn't even start to suspect him until this afternoon."
"Suspect who?" He asks. "What did you guys figure out?"
Cedric studies his hands. "It's about the incident in the Forest. That night, when you told me to fetch Dumbledore, I ran into someone else first."
"Who?"
"Professor Moody. He saw me run in through the Entryway all panicked and he asked me what was wrong and… I told him everything."
Harry nods, though he doesn't quite get the significance. "Cho's right Cedric, it doesn't sound like you did anything wrong. Moody would've found out anyway, whether you told him or not."
"There's more," Cho says.
"Moody told me Dumbledore was with Trelawney, so I went to the Divination tower," Cedric scoffs. "He wasn't there. He hadn't left his office all evening. I wasted so much time sprinting up those stairs and arguing with Trelawney about reading my palm. I could've helped you faster if I'd just gone straight to his office."
"Okay, that's kind of odd, but Moody was probably just-"
"Mistaken?" Cho finishes for him. He nods. "That's what I thought too when Cedric first told me. But I've been mulling it over all day and… I don't think he was mistaken. I think he purposefully sent Cedric in the wrong direction. I think he wanted to get to Mr. Crouch before anyone else did."
"But… why?" Harry furrows his brows. It doesn't make sense. Why would Moody want to keep Dumbledore- his friend and arguably the most powerful wizard alive- from knowing something possibly dangerous is happening at his school?
"That's the million galleon question," Cedric says. "We have an idea, but we need to ask you something first to confirm it."
Cho takes his hand. "Harry, do you think… is it possible Professor Moody was the one who attacked you?"
"What? No, Moody didn't-"
Harry trails off, doubting himself too much to finish his thought. His memory is still an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. There's an invisible wall keeping him from the full picture. Cho squeezes his hands and Cedric puts an arm around his shoulder. Maybe… maybe the reason he can't remember is because he never actually saw his attacker's face that night.
Instead of focusing on what he saw, Harry concentrates on what he heard. There was a voice. He's almost certain he heard someone cast a spell.
Stupefy!
Moody's voice ticks off all the boxes: older man, Irish accent, gruff and gravelly. Harry thinks back on a year's worth of Defense lectures. Moody taught him dozens of spells, but Stupefy! wasn't among them.
"I dunno. It's possible. I can't rule him out, but… I'm sorry, I'm not confident enough to say it was definitely him."
Cedric squeezes his shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. It's not an easy accusation to make. I didn't want to believe it either. But… if Moody attacked you and Krum, then it's possible that he… Mr. Crouch…" Cedric shudders, unable to continue.
Cho gives Cedric a gentle look before turning to him. "Harry, we think what we saw on the map is Mr. Crouch's... remains. And we think Moody might have something to do with his death."
Harry looks between them, trying to gauge if they're serious. He laughs nervously. "Er… no, that can't be the case. Sorry, I should have told you sooner, but Mr. Crouch isn't dead. He's been moving around all day."
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Cedric says, looking relieved. Cho however, isn't so easily assuaged.
"He's moving- as in independently moving?" She asks. "Moody's not next to him, carrying him around?"
Harry shakes his head. "He's moving all on his own. He was bounding around the Quidditch Pitch all afternoon, it's been driving us mad. Me, Ron, and Hermione were about to chase him down when you caught up with us."
"Where was he headed? Where is he now ?"
Harry unfolds the map to check where Crouch is now, but before he can find him he's interrupted by a set of heavy, rapidly approaching footsteps. A very out of breath Hagrid appears from behind the corridor, Ron and Hermione following a few paces behind.
"Harry, what's going on here?" Hagrid asks. "What's this about a magic map that shows Mr. Crouch at Hogwarts?"
"You mean- you didn't just talk to him?"
"No! Of course I haven't! How could I when he's been missing for the past month?"
Harry furrows his brows. The map showed the two of them talking to each other. Though… if Hagrid spotted Mr. Crouch they wouldn't be having a casual conversation. Hagrid would be high-tailing it over to the Beauxbatons carriage to alert Dumbledore and Minister Fudge. But Hagrid was talking to somebody . If not Crouch, then who?
"It gets more bizarre," Ron says, catching up to them at last. "Hagrid said the last person he talked to before us was-"
"Moody…" Cho finishes for him. Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione gawk at her.
"Yes! How on Earth did you know that?" Hermione asks.
Cho doesn't seem to hear her. She's gone pensive, staring off at the mountains and muttering to herself. "But if Crouch… and Moody… Merlin, that would change everything!" She pivots her gaze towards him. "Harry, how does the map work on polyjuice potion?"
"Um… I'm not sure. I'd assume it shows the name of the real person instead of who they're disguised as. Wait… you don't think…"
"Oh! That's right!" Cedric exclaims. "You told me all the polyjuice potion ingredients went missing. A couple of my housemates said the same thing too."
"And Snape told me this afternoon his polyjuice potion ingredients have been missing since around the second task. He was accusing me of stealing them, but-"
"It would've been Moody," Cho says. "He's the only one besides Dumbledore who has a key."
"Er… you guys want to fill us in on your theory there?" Ron asks.
Harry turns to them. "What if the Moody you just talked to, and the Moody we've been seeing move around on the map all day, was actually Crouch taking polyjuice potion?"
Instead of joining their excitement, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid give him looks of skepticism.
"What? But why would Crouch want to impersonate Moody?" Hagrid asks.
"And we've seen Moody and Crouch together, at Halloween and the First Task," Hermione says. "Unless you think there's a third person in on it, or they didn't swap places until later?"
"Yeah, and if Crouch was Moody, then who did you supposedly see the night of the incident in the Forest?" Ron asks.
Harry opens his mouth to respond, but finds he doesn't have any answers. With some time to think about it, there's more than a few holes in their theory. But there's something about it… he can't quite shake the feeling they're onto something.
"I think we need to talk to Crouch-or whoever he is- and demand some answers."
Bartemius Crouch has migrated into Dumbledore's office. He paces around while Dumbledore sits behind his desk. Harry can't be certain from the map alone, but it seems like Dumbledore is familiar with whoever he's speaking with. If it were Crouch, then Minister Fudge and Mr. Bagman would be there too instead of dining at the staff table in the Great Hall.
"I'll talk to Dumbledore," Harry says. "You guys go to Moody's office and make sure he's alright."
"But-" Hagrid protests.
"No, find Moody. Knock down his door if you have to. If we're right about this, then he probably needs your help more than I do."
Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione hesitate only a moment before heading off. Cho and Cedric stay behind.
"You guys…" he starts, "I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't want you to get even more wrapped up in this."
"Well, it's too bad you don't get a choice," Cho smiles. "We're not letting you do this alone."
"Besides, you'll need me to get into Dumbledore's office," Cedric says. "I'm the only one of us who knows the password."
The password turns out to be Cockroach Clusters, which certainly wouldn't have been Harry's first guess. He leads his partners up the spiral staircase. Dumbledore is still at his desk, writing something with an elaborate Phoenix quill. Someone else is with him, their uneven footsteps shaking the ground as they circle around the room. Harry glances at the map once more. The dot still reads Bartemius Crouch, but that doesn't match the person standing by Fawkes' cage holding the Triwizard Cup.
"So… I noticed you still haven't put an ad in The Prophet for my position yet," Moody says.
"Yes, thank you for reminding me. I'll get in touch with Benji MacMillian tomorrow," Dumbledore says. "You're sure I can't convince you to stay on another year? It would save me an awful lot of trouble."
Moody snorts a laugh. "You're out of your mind. The students are fine, but all this grading- I didn't have to do half as much paperwork with the Ministry."
Harry replays his words over: The students are fine. Students fine.
Stupefy!
Harry turns to his partners and whispers. "It was him!"
"What?"
"The thing you asked me earlier? It was him, I'm sure of it now. I recognize his voice."
"Hang on Alastor, I think I hear someone coming," Dumbledore looks up from his paperwork and grins. "Ah… Harry, Cedric, and Cho. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You okay there, Potter? You're looking a bit pale." Moody- or Crouch, or whoever- asks him.
"Professor Dumbledore, do you mind if we have a quick word with you, alone?" He asks.
Moody busies himself with the Cup, polishing the glowing blue surface in small circles. He either didn't hear, or- what Harry suspects is more likely- is choosing to ignore him.
"Alastor, if you don't mind," Dumbledore asks.
"Right, I'll get going." He starts for the exit, but pauses midway. He's standing only a foot away from him. "I just thought- I heard from Snape you were looking for some advice about tonight. Anything I can help you out with?"
"No, this isn't about the Task."
"Then what is it about?" Moody's magic eye swivels between his partners and Dumbledore, but his real one stays trained on him.
"We'd like to discuss it privately with Professor Dumbledore, if you don't mind," Cedric says.
"Does it have to do with the incident? Do you remember anything?" Moody asks.
"No, it's something else," Cho says. Despite her cool tone, Moody doesn't seem convinced.
"You remember, don't you?" He takes a frantic step forward. "Harry, I'm sorry about what I had to do that night, but I promise if you let me explain-"
"Then explain why you've been impersonating Professor Moody, Mr. Crouch! " He shouts.
"What? How the hell did you-" Moody's face turns an angry shade of red. He hasn't looked this unhinged since the beginning of the year when he transfigured Draco. It was almost comical then, but now- Harry takes a step back and collides into one of Dumbledore's bookcases.
"Accio hip flask," Dumbledore shouts. Moody scrambles for his flask, but he's too slow. It soars across the room into Dumbledore's open hand. He unscrews the cap, takes a whiff, and his expression of shock turned confusion turned outrage tells Harry all he needs to know.
"Phineas, fetch Professor Snape," Dumbledore says to a portrait on his wall. "Tell him to bring veritaserum and polyjuice potion antidote. Dilys, find Minister Fudge and…"
"Harry, I know how this looks, but I can explain," Moody whispers. He shoves the Triwizard cup towards him. The glow is almost blinding this close. "Hold this. Just for a minute. I promise, everything I've done will make sense when you do."
"What?"
"Just hold it, will you?"
"No, get away from me!"
Moody lets loose a guttural growl, and thrusts the cup into his arms like a sucker punch to the gut. Harry braces himself for the knockback, but instead an invisible force yanks him forward. His partners let out horrified screams as he's dragged upwards. Dumbledore's office spins out of existence. He can't move. He can't breathe. He can't pull his hands away from the cup. Then, as quickly as it started, it stops, and he tumbles onto hard ground.
Harry claws at his forehead. His scar burns with a pain that's going to eat him alive.
Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son.
Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master.
Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.
Lord Voldemort rises once more.
Harry survives.
Somehow, with magic beyond his comprehension and sheer luck, he denies Voldemort the chance of killing him for the second time. He escapes with the cup, which was transfigured into a portkey by Voldemort's servant, the Impostor who was not Alastor Moody.
It was all carefully planned. How Voldemort snuck the Impostor into Hogwarts. How the Impostor entered his name into the Goblet of Fire. How the tournament was rigged to ensure his victory and force his transport across the country to the graveyard that's plagued his dreams for the last year. And Harry played right into it, none the wiser of the charade until it was too late to stop it. If he'd been quicker about telling Dumbledore his suspicions, or if he hadn't given Moody the benefit of the doubt, or if he'd just looked at his map a bit closer earlier in the year...
He survives, but he shouldn't have.
Harry lands in a thick patch of grass. His shaky hands lose their grip on the cup. It bounces a few feet away, glowing bright blue in the darkness. Harry's hit with a wave of nausea, but he takes a few deep breaths, and the urge subsides. His scar still burns faintly like an aftershock.
"Lumos," he says, and a faint glow sparks on his wand tip. The portkey dropped him off on the Quidditch Pitch near the maze entrance. Harry waves his wand towards the stands. They're empty. He's all alone out here. The tournament must have ended hours ago. Harry has no idea how much time has passed since he confronted the Impostor. He wonders faintly who ended up winning.
From behind him a set of heavy footfalls stride towards him. An escaped beast from the maze or… Voldemort? He could have tracked him down. There's no telling what he's capable of now that they're bound by his blood.
Shakily, Harry turns around and points his wand at the approaching threat. The creature stops in its tracks. Through the glow of the cup, Harry recognizes the large black dog sitting before him. In an instant, Sirius transfigures from beast to man. He's thinner than Harry remembers. His hair is longer and his eyes more sunken, but his hardened face breaks out in relief at the sight of him.
"Harry! Oh thank Merlin you're alright."
Harry's stoic facade breaks. He rushes for his Godfather, throwing his arms around him and burying his sobs into his chest. "Voldemort- I'm sorry- I couldn't stop him- he's back, Sirius. Voldemort is back."
"Shh…" Sirius whispers. He pulls him close and gently strokes his hair. "It's okay. It's okay. You're going to be okay."
So… Goblet of Fire is a really hard book to give the "and they lived happily ever after" treatment to. Harry can't fully defeat Voldemort because horcruxes and other stuff he won't find out about for another two or three books. But not having Harry face him at all felt like… well… putting off the inevitable. Again, because horcruxes and other stuff, Voldemort had to come back, and he had to use Harry to do so. At least now I can finally stop reassuring y'all that Cedric isn't going to die anymore :P
Speaking of Cedric: my original ending was to still have him with Harry in the graveyard, and in an attempt to apparate them out, he accidentally splinches himself (his right hand specifically) and leaves Harry behind. Give yourself a cookie if you caught the foreshadowing I sprinkled in before I abandoned the idea.
I might end up moving the last section of this chapter to the beginning of the next chapter, or deleting it altogether. It's just here for now because ending it with "Lord Voldemort rises once more." would be a dick move on my part.