In the last chapter: Harry finally finished working out the details of the ritual. Harry and Anthony attend the Yule Ball together. Anthony has a few realizations about his feelings. Harry has a confrontation with Viktor that reveals the real reason for Viktor's suspicion and Harry deflects when the other gets a little too close to the truth. Harry and Viktor witness an interesting conversation between Snape and Karkaroff on their way back to the ball.


Yule left the residents of Hogwarts drained and sated. Most attendants had spent the few days following in the dorms to recuperate—or to either avoid/deal with the consequences of whatever happened that night. From what Harry had heard from Draco—ever the one for school gossip—quite a few students had snuck alcohol into the ball, or partook afterwards, and with wizards as their chaperones, most of them were caught. Madam Pomfrey had been forbidden from doling out any hangover-relieving potions. Which meant that on top of a heavy amount of detentions, students were also dealing with quite the after effects of a night of too much fun.

Harry would have thought it served them right and would have found it amusing if it weren't for the fact that this meant that most of these students were now bound by their symptoms to the dorms, with him. The grumbling, irritable Ravenclaws were enough to chase Harry out of the dorms and common room most days.

It was because of this, that Harry found himself spending much more time out of and about in the rest of the castle than he usually would and then coincidentally running into Cedric who stopped him in the hall to speak quietly.

"Harry, it's good that I ran into you, I didn't see you at dinner, so I feared I might have had to wait until tomorrow to tell you since it's almost curfew." Then, in a more hushed tone as he leaned in, Cedric said, "I had a little help recently and was finally able to figure out the clue." Harry was immediately alert at the news, but then he saw a small group of Hufflepuffs coming down the hallway the same way Cedric had come from and he noticed the other boy panic a little when he caught sight of them as well. Cedric had promised that he'd aid Harry in the tasks as best as he could, but they still weren't supposed to get help from others—officially—and Hufflepuffs might think to 'help' Cedric along a bit by trying to get Harry in trouble.

"The egg, Harry. Put it in water, someplace private." Cedric hurriedly whispered before spouting off something about the Yule Ball louder for the other Hufflepuffs who had noticed them as well at that point. Cedric was pulled into the current of the others as they passed and tugged him with them, sending Harry a few abrasive glances that went ignored by the young raven. Harry waited until they were gone before changing directions from a quick trip to the library to check in some books to go back up to his dorm. He had nothing else to do at that point and knew everyone else expected him to be out so he wouldn't be missed if he snuck down to the chamber with his golden egg.

At first, Harry had thought about going to the washroom with the egg, but that certainly wasn't 'private' enough and he wasn't sure yet what exactly would happen when he put it in the water. The chamber was still half flooded with water and would be far enough away from everyone that if the screeching continued, he wouldn't have to worry about anyone hearing—save for perhaps the Basilisk, but then he only had to explain to it what he'd been doing and maybe apologize.

When Harry got to his room, he retrieved the egg and wrapped it in his invisibility cloak so no one would see it and slipped in the Marauder's map for good measure. He could just walk out with the egg and no one would stop him, but he still didn't wish to stir up any suspicion if those Hufflepuffs from before told someone else about his little chat with Cedric—which would put them both in a difficult position if people thought they were working together. He imagined it would end up coming out as some sort of conspiracy of Hogwarts—and Britain in the broader sense—to get a leg up on the foreign schools. The fact that there are two Hogwarts students even in the tournament has already cropped up enough rubbish. Perhaps Harry was overthinking the whole thing and being too paranoid about walking around with an egg under his arm, but one doesn't hold as many world-changing secrets as he does and not end up just a little irrational.

Halfway down, he slipped into an alcove and pulled on the cloak before going the rest of the way to the chamber. He hadn't been down there much since the visiting schools had arrived and the number of eyes on him had more than tripled with the tournament, but he was there every now and then to work on the ritual or train to keep himself sharp or when he wished to convene with Death in privacy. Which he did so that he didn't have to always go the route of mentally communicating while others were around.

Harry reached the chamber and found the Basilisk lounging lazily around Salazar's statue. When it noticed Harry, it made sure to flick down its translucent eyelids to protect Harry from its lethal effects, keeping to the truce they'd drawn between them for the time being. Other than that, there was no other reaction.

Harry found a deep pool of water off to the side of the main walkway and knelt next to it. Pushing up his sleeves, Harry slowly moved the egg into the frigid water that already had his fingers feeling numb from only a few moments, and cautiously turned the little gold clasp on top of the egg to release its shell. When he did, the egg slipped from his cold fingers and sank about five feet to the bottom, but not before he heard the muffled but entrancing noises of music or singing of some kind, a far cry from the horrendous painful shriek.

However, he wasn't able to hear if there was anything being said since it was so muffled, so he knew he would have to get in the water to hear it. Problem was, he didn't exactly wish to get soaked, nor did he wish to strip down to go for a swim. The water was cold enough to freeze over if it were only a degree colder, and if Harry went in as is, he'd either get sick or freeze to death. Without many other options, Harry transformed into his animagus form, knowing that it's magical qualities would make it far more resistant physically than his human form.

This, however, seemed to garner the attention of the Basilisk and its massive head perked up to look at Harry's significantly smaller black snake form. By now, Harry was roughly thirteen feet in length, scales completely black with their iridescent gleam, and had more developed and larger venom glands. To a human, he would probably be a rightly terrifying sight, but to a basilisk? His only intimidating factor would be his potent venom.

"Speaker, I did not know you could be a snake as well." The basilisk stated, sibilant tones even and unfazed.

"I don't spend much time like this, but I will admit that it is quite freeing and comfortable as long as I can find warmth." Harry conversed casually, not wishing to spite the large creature, for even if death was not permanent for him, he remembered vividly what it felt like to be crushed by its jaws and did not wish to repeat such an experience any time soon.

The serpent seemed pleased and settled back down to doze at the base of the statue.

Harry descended into the dark cold depths and listened carefully to the enthralling voices coming from the lazy dance of the glowing bubbles within the egg.

Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching ponder this;
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

Harry listened to the tune several times just to be sure he didn't miss anything and would remember it clearly. Gliding from the chilling pool, Harry transformed back once he was out and shivered slightly as he tried to regain some feeling in his cold limbs. Harry began contemplating with his companion.

"Given the nature of the clue, I'd say the screeching outside of the water was actually the infamous Mermish. Which means that the second task will probably center around the black lake and we will have to recover whatever they plan to take from us." Harry concluded aloud as he cast a warming charm on his clothes, and then the lethargic basilisk as a second thought, much to the snake's appreciation.

'I'm sure you wish to spend more time sorting that all out, but I think there is something more pressing that requires your attention, young raven.' Death's words had Harry freezing.

"What's happened?" His voice sounded hard and fearsome, earning him a curious glance from the basilisk.

'Mister Barty Crouch Jr, it seems, has been filching ingredients for his polyjuice potion from Snape's general stores but has gone through them all and has now decided to go through the professor's personal stores. Severus, though, has placed a few undetectable alarm wards on his personal stores and will be headed back to his rooms to catch Barty the moment he triggers them—which will be very soon. As we still need Barty to fulfill his duty here and take you to Voldemort when the time is right, I suggest you get there before he does and aid the little Death Eater.' Death had barely finished speaking before Harry was cursing viciously under his breath and racing out of the chamber.

Harry shouldn't have to protect an adult wizard—who, might he point out, is considered one of Voldemort's more competent and trusted followers—from getting discovered. Mainly, Harry was angry that someone was making him sprint through the castle while almost tripping because he was under his invisibility cloak and trying to keep an eye on the Marauder's map in his hand at the same time to watch Snape's movements. At least his friend was able to tell Harry the exact moment when Barty triggered the wards. Snape was currently patrolling one of the towers, which gave Harry a head start, but only barely.

Harry may have cheated a little and used the veil and a bit of wandless magic to cushion him when he jumped down whole flights of stairs to save time, but he didn't care.

Finally, Harry reached Snape's office and made sure his breathing was near silent and the cloak was covering him completely before stepping inside just as Barty walked out of the private potion store closet checking over what he'd grabbed before sliding into his pocket without paying any mind to the time. It was the first time Harry was seeing the real Barty Crouch, and not the polyjuiced face of a scarred Auror over it; he was quite thin and much younger than Harry had expected, no older than thirty. Harry had hoped the naive man would leave before he had to intervene, but one glance at the map told him he would not be so lucky, as Snape had just reached the dungeons and would be there in a manner of moments.

Harry stepped back towards the wall closest to the door and used powerful wandless magic to summon Barty to him and before the man could panic and reach for his wand, Harry threw up a necromantic disillusionment spell over the man so that it couldn't be dispelled by Snape. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath when he cast the disillusionment spell.

"Don't make a sound." Harry whispered to the other man a moment before the door beside them flew open and the furious potions master stormed in with his wand raised and murder in his black eyes.

With a strong silencing charm on them both, Harry grabbed Barty's arm through the cloak and carefully pulled him out of the room and then ran with him out of the dungeons. Harry led Barty all the way to a secret passageway close to Moody's office before he stopped and dismantled his spells on him, though he didn't remove his cloak, and when he spoke, his voice was no more than a whisper.

"I will get you the ingredients you need, so don't break into his stores again. It's far too dangerous and you will be caught." Harry warned and turned to leave when Barty told him to wait.

"Who are you?" The man asked, sounding confused and wary, but also somehow impressed.

Thinking for a moment, Harry answered shortly, wondering what his response might kick up all the way over at Riddle Manor.

"A friend." And with that, he disappeared into the sleeping castle.


"Wait," The soft rasp of a voice spread through the room louder than it should have, causing the twitchy man to freeze in his report and watch his lord with anticipation. "They said what?" Barty paled slightly at the sudden intensity of his master, but didn't hesitate to repeat the exact words told to him just hours previous when he was saved from almost being caught by the potions professor.

Voldemort drummed his bony grey fingers on the arm of the chair he was bound to due to the lacking vessel he occupied. If what his follower had told him was correct, then whoever had been helping them before was somehow within Hogwarts walls. Unfortunately, with the tournament and all the comings and goings of so many different people, it would be almost impossible to decipher their identity. However, Voldemort's curiosity for them was growing each day. They had sent him both the philosopher stone, and another loyal follower who was neither thought to be dead nor a fugitive, and also had ties within the Ministry. Now, they appear to have not only gotten into Hogwarts without notice, but also protected and offered assistance to his Death Eater.

Voldemort also found himself wondering after the strange magic they had used to disguise Barty, as the man reported to have never felt or experienced anything quite like it before. He hoped that one day all of these little encounters would accumulate and he'd be able to meet this person for himself. They were certainly proving themselves to be a powerful ally and despite his eagerness and anticipation, there was a part of him that also recognized that this person, whoever they are, had just as much potential of being a powerful enemy and the fact that he hadn't been able to gage this person himself yet left him slightly unsettled. At what point did the thrill of the mystery no longer outweigh his own paranoia? One could only handle so much cloak and dagger for so long before worrying about just where that dagger might really be pointed.

Voldemort dismissed Barty for the moment but instructed him to stay within his manor for a while longer in case he had any other orders to give him later. Alone, Voldemort allowed his muddled mind to consume itself in an infinite loop as he lost himself to the ever-encroaching fog that had lingered around him for so long he was no longer sure if it wasn't just truly a part of him now.

His dry, brittle bones creaked and groaned like the aging manor encapsulating him and he felt all of his breath stolen on the long-winded sigh that seeped from him. His power was growing stronger each day, but there was a weary fatigue that never truly left him and built up deposits in his brain. It was like his time away from physical form had caused him to forget some sort of basic need for survival—like sleeping or eating—and the strain on him was building with each day because that something was neglected. Though, he tried to keep himself from getting too caught up in those thoughts and what they could mean and instead looked at it as; either he'll figure out what's wrong and fix it, or he'll just have to hold out until the ritual and hope that regaining his full form would fix it for him. It had to.

The silence resounded in waves and he could almost hear the echoing vibration of a voice hidden between the layers, it made him want to spend hours peeling back those layers in order to chase that voice to wherever it would take him, but every time he started to drift, he would snap back with the ringing absence of sound in his ears.


Groaning, Phil dropped the letter he'd been reading on the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers hard to relieve some of the pressure that built over the short course of him reading its contents. Harry sent him a letter that morning filling him in on Barty Crouch Jr's mistake and how Harry had to interfere and would now need a steady supply of ingredients for polyjuice potion for the man to make sure he didn't try to sneak back into the ex-Death Eater's office. Philias agreed with Harry that going out to buy the ingredients himself so often would be needlessly risky and it would be better if Phil got what was needed and sent it to Harry.

That didn't mean that Phil was really okay with Harry risking himself in any capacity for the other man, but he knew his opinion would not change his mind and they both knew how integral Barty was to their plan. His words didn't hold the weight of an adult speaking to a child, no matter how he saw it, it was more like a worker speaking to his employee.

The Auror ran a hand through his thick hair as he opened his eyes again and sighed. He had a feeling he was going to meet an early grave because of that kid—and not by being at the end of another wand, it was more along the lines of a stroke or a heart attack. He envied Sirius and Remus for being in the dark about all the things their adopted son got up to when they weren't looking. Philias' role as Harry's partner in all of this, hearing about nearly everything going on, made him feel like a third, unseen parent, the way he worried about the little brat. If those two ever were to find out about even half of the things he knew, he'd be waiting with a brand-new bottle of fire whiskey to ease them into it a little and also welcome them into the club of worry warts who were going prematurely grey because of one particularly danger-prone fourteen-year-old.

His life had been so quiet before in comparison, and he was and Auror so that said something.