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Chapter Fourteen
Skeeter and Crouch
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table a few days after the Hogsmeade weekend, pondering several events of the last few days. Only yesterday, Ron and Hermione went down to the kitchens again to get food to send to Sirius, and Hermione had tried to talk to Winky, who had apparently been hired by Dumbledore to work at Hogwarts, again about Mr. Crouch's disappearance. She had only succeeded, however, in irritating the rest of the Hogwarts house elves when she got fed up with their attitudes of submissiveness.
In the meantime, Harry had been researching in the Room of Requirement with Draco and Faykan. His animagus vision had show him carefully stalking through what he thought might have been a dark forest, but he was having a difficult time figuring out what he might have been, he thought he might have been some kind of large cat with how he was prowling. Draco thought he might have been some kind of small long creature, and was picking through several species of small mammals.
Harry still desperately wanted to talk to Faykan alone about what happened before the Second Task, but although Faykan could stand to be in his presence and talk to him without flushing in embarrassment, they still hadn't had any free time without Ron, Draco, Hermione, or other Gryffindors present to make the conversation impossible to bring up.
Harry was brought out of his recollections of the previous days by the swirl of post owls arriving out of the ceiling. Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.
"Percy won't've had time to answer yet," said Ron. "We only sent Hedwig yesterday." Sirius had suggested that they owl Percy to ask about the condition of Mr. Crouch.
"No, it's not that," said Hermione. "I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."
"Good thinking!" said Harry, also looking up at the owls. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck…"
A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione.
"It hasn't got a newspaper, though," she said, looking disappointed. "It's…"
But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.
"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.
"What on earth?" Hermione said, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red.
"What's up?" said Ron.
"It's, oh how ridiculous…"
She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.
'YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.'
"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' Ouch!"
She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.
"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" said Faykan, flicking his wand at the envelope and incinerating it.
"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick, knobby gloves.
"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry as the owls around Hermione took flight. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Madam Pomfrey took nearly an hour to wrap up Hermione's hands in bandages coated in a potion to reduce the swelling and clear up the boils. She had to wear it for the rest of the day, which Hermione knew would make eating and taking notes very difficult.
She made it back down to the grounds in time for the end of their Care of Magical Creature's lesson. The students were standing around a large patch of recently dug earth, while many, mole-like creatures were digging in the midst, occasionally pulling out a gold coin and darting back to a student to drop it off before plunging back into the dirt. They were rather adorable, Hermione thought.
Hagrid was just telling Goyle off for trying to pocket the gold, as Hermione arrived.
"Oh there y'are, Hermione!" he said cheerfully as he saw her. Hagrid quickly explained to her that they were studying nifflers, and that they were seeing who's niffler had collected the most gold from the dirt pile. It turned out that Ron's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Harry, Faykan, Draco, Ron, and Hermione stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes.
"What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?" said Hagrid, looking concerned.
Hermione told him about the hate mail she had received that morning, and the envelope full of bubotuber pus.
"Aah, don worry," said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. "I got some o' those letters an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an if you had any decency you d jump in a lake.'"
"No!" said Hermione, looking shocked.
"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."
"You missed a really good lesson," Harry told Hermione as they headed back toward the castle. "They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?"
Ron, however, was frowning at the chocolate Hagrid had given him. He looked thoroughly put out about something.
"What's the matter?" said Draco. "Wrong flavor?"
"No," said Ron shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?" he said to Harry.
"What gold?" said Harry.
"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars, in the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"
Harry thought for a moment before realization dawned on his face. "Oh..." he said, "I dunno... I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about the Death Eaters, wasn't I?"
They climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch, waving as Draco parted to go to the Slytherin table.
"Must be nice," Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."
"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" said Harry impatiently. "We all did, remember?"
"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Ron muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."
"Forget it, all right?" said Harry.
Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, "I hate being poor."
Hermione looked over at Faykan and Harry. There was not much for them to say as Ron started to grumble and complain about how unfair it was for him to be poor.
"Come off it Ron," Faykan finally said between mouthfuls of food, "It could be much worse."
"At least your fingers aren't full of pus…" Hermione added, as she attempted to manipulate her utensils. Her anger bubbled over as her fork clattered to the plate for the fifth time, "I hate that Skeeter woman!" she half-shouted, causing several people down the table to stare. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"
And so for the next week, Hermione studied magical methods of concealment, from invisibility cloaks to disillusionment charms. Hate mail continued to arrive from stupid readers of that woman's rubbish. Hermione and Faykan simply burned the letters as they arrived, endured through several Howlers that were sent, but none of them hindered Hermione in her task. If anything, the ill-wishers messages of hate only spurred her on to discover the truth.
That was why she was hanging back with Faykan after their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to speak with Professor Moody. Ron and Draco had gone ahead to the Room of Requirement, and Hermione noticed Harry look mournfully at Faykan before following them.
Moody turned his magical eye on the pair of them after the last students left the classroom, "Yes?" he growled as it focused on Hermione.
"Sir, I wanted to ask you. I mean to say, I was wondering if you saw Rita Skeeter hiding under some sort of magical concealment during the Second Task?" she asked tentatively.
"Wanting to get back at her for those articles in Witch Weekly do yea?" He said, grinning.
Moody thought for a moment, then shook his grisly head, "No, I don't recall seeing her, or anyone under concealment charms or Invisibility Cloaks that day for that matter. Very rare items, Invisibility Cloaks, only a select few people still have them anymore. And I doubt she'd be magically strong enough to produce a halfway decent Disillusionment charm, not her style."
"Well, thanks then Professor…" Hermione said, and she and Faykan left, heading for the seventh floor.
She caught Faykan looking at her sidelong as they made their way up the stairs, "You really should talk to Harry you know, Fay," She commented, "He's really worried about how you've been feeling about all this nonsense."
"He told you too?" Faykan blustered, but it was half hearted, as though he had expected this.
"Yes, he did." She replied, "And I agree with him, he cares about you, please talk to him. You might be surprised with what he has to say."
"Hermione, I can't," Faykan whined, "It doesn't matter in the end. He'll just end up getting hurt if I allow this to happen."
Hermione grabbed Faykan's arm suddenly and pushed him into a secret passage behind a suit of armor. There she shoved him into a sitting position and stood over him, hands on her hips. "Now," she said fiercely, her frustration at the boy rising, "you're going to tell me, right now, exactly why you feel that it's so wrong for you to attempt pursuing a relationship with Harry."
Faykan's eyed widened, "Hermione what?" he said weakly, "I don't understand what your talking about…"
Hermione knelt and lifted Faykan's face to make him look her in the eye, "I have to do this Fay, because if you hurt Harry, in any way, I have to hurt you in return. You not speaking to him is hurting him, so you are going to explain why…"
Faykan turned his head again, avoiding Hermione's eyes, "I want to, sometimes. Sometimes it hurts so much when I look at him and I just want to scream. To just take him in my arms and never let go. Do you even know what he's lived through? What he has yet to live through? You can't imagine, could never hope to imagine, the pain that awaits us all. Voldemort will return, I can feel it, and he will hunt Harry down relentlessly. I must be there for him, must be there, and ready to sacrifice myself for Harry."
Hermione shook her head at the boy's utter foolishness. It sounded as if he expected himself to be martyred at any moment. "Faykan," she said, tears in her eyes now and he looked at her again, "You are completely insane… you know that," Faykan chuckled weakly, "I want a promise from you, a promise that you'll talk about this to Harry… before the Third Task."
"But Hermione…"
"Promise me!" Hermione insisted, shaking the infuriating boy by the shoulders for emphasis. Slowly, Faykan nodded, and Hermione pulled him up, intent on getting up to the room before the other boys got suspicious of their absence. "Hermione," Faykan said holding her back for a moment longer, "Please don't say anything to Harry just yet. Let me tell him in my own way." Hermione nodded.
"Thank you…"
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Faykan's Harry's and Ron's were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione's, however, was smaller than a chicken egg. Her face fell when she saw it.
"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she Ron?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. "Gets it for the recipes," Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.
"Don't you want to see what Percy's written?" Harry asked her hastily.
Percy's letter was short and irritated.
'As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter.'
"Rather unhelpful, isn't he?" Faykan said sarcastically after reading the letter over Harry's shoulder.
The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn't know what he or Faykan would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held them both back in Transfiguration.
"You two are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock," she told them. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."
So at half past eight that night, Harry left Ron, Draco and Hermione in the Room of Requirement and went downstairs with Faykan. Glancing to his side, Harry caught Faykan watching him covertly. Hopefully, if Harry could manage it, he could get Faykan alone after Bagman spoke with the champions, and talk to him finally about their relationship…
"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Faykan asked casually as they went down the stone steps and out into the cloudy night, "The Third Task I mean…"
"I have no idea…" Harry replied absently, his eyes and mind pouring over what Faykan was hiding for what felt like the millionth time.
They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.
"What've they done to it?" Harry gasped, stopping dead and staring.
The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.
"They're hedges!" Faykan said, bending down to examine the nearest one.
"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.
Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry as he came nearer. Her attitude toward him had changed completely since he had saved her sister from the lake.
"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Harry and Cedric climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less than happy expressions on Harry's face, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"
"A maze, obviously." Faykan said instantly.
"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.
"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Harry and Faykan. "Then Mr. Krum will enter... then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
Harry, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, he nodded politely like the other champions.
"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."
Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again, and decided that now was the time to talk to Faykan.
"Hey Fay, can we talk over here for a minute?" he said, gesturing toward the forest. Faykan looked at him suspiciously, "Yeah… sure." He said, rather guardedly.
Bagman looked slightly perturbed.
"I'll wait for you. Harry, shall I?"
"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Harry, suppressing a smile, "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."
And he led Faykan out of the stadium, picking a random direction away from the castle, passing Hagrid's cabin and the Beauxbatons carriage.
"Harry, why are we going all the way out here?"
"I don't want us to be disturbed," Faykan's face paled slightly, but Harry took his arm and pulled him along, until at last they reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horses' paddock.
Harry turned to look at Faykan, whose face was illuminated by a small patch of moonlight shining through the trees.
"Faykan," Harry began, and immediately was at a loss for words. How do you phrase that you don't want you best friend to not be afraid of you? 'Well' Harry thought, 'No way but dive right into it, like a true Gryffindor,' "I… I don't fully understand what happened, what you went through… but I know how it affected you, and I really don't want it to come between us Faykan…"
This was much harder than Harry had expected it to be, "I…" Faykan started but just then a branch snapped nearby. They both whirled toward the paddock, wands out and lit. Viktor Krum held up his hands, stepping into the wand light.
"I'm sorry," he said, "But could I haff a vord vith you Potter?"
Harry eyed him suspiciously, then nodded. Krum's eyes darted to Faykan, but he spoke regardless. "I vant to know vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."
Harry burst out laughing, all the previous tension melting away.
"Vot?" Krum asked, glowering slightly, "Vot is so funny?"
"Nothing…" Harry said, wiping a tear from his eye. But Krum glowered again, and Harry decided to elaborate. "We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never had been. It's just that Skeeter woman making things up."
"It true." Faykan said.
"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry.
"Yeah," said Harry, "because were friends."
He couldn't quite believe he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous International Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he, Harry, was an equal, a real rival.
"You haff never... you haff not..."
"No," said Harry very firmly.
Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, then said, "You fly very veil. I vos votching at the first task."
"Thanks," said Harry, grinning broadly and suddenly feeling much taller himself. "I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really…"
But suddenly Harry found himself swung around to stand beside Krum, as Faykan stood in front of them, wand raised and pointing into the forest.
"Vot is it?" Krum asked, perplexed
Harry shook his head, staring past Faykan to try and see what had spooked him. He also raised his wand, ready to attack over his friend's shoulder, like they had practiced before many times in the Room of Requirement.
Suddenly a man staggered out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Harry didn't recognize him... then he realized it was Mr. Crouch.
He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see.
"Vosn't he a judge?" said Krum, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"
Harry nodded, hesitated for a moment, and walked slowly around Faykan, toward Mr. Crouch, who did not look at him, but continued to talk to a nearby tree.
"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."
"Mr. Crouch?" said Harry cautiously.
"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."
Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.
"Mr. Crouch?" Harry said loudly. "Are you all right?"
Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. Harry looked around at Faykan and Krum, who had followed him into the trees, and were looking down at Crouch in alarm.
"Vot is wrong with him?"
"No idea," Harry muttered. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone…"
"Dumbledore!" gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and seized a handful of Harry's robes, dragging him closer, though his eyes were staring over Harry's head. "I need... see... Dumbledore..."
"Okay," said Harry, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the…"
"I've done... stupid... thing..." Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must... tell... Dumbledore..."
"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Harry loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"
Mr. Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto Harry.
"Who... you?" he whispered.
"I'm a student at the school," said Harry, looking around at Faykan or Krum for some help, and Faykan stepped forward to try and lift Mr. Crouch to his feet, but he wouldn't budge. Krum hung back, looking extremely nervous.
"You're not... his?" whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.
"No," said Harry, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about.
"Dumbledore's?"
"That's right," said Harry.
Crouch was pulling him closer; Harry tried to loosen Crouch's grip on his robes, but it was too powerful.
"Warn... Dumbledore..."
"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Harry. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him..."
"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."
Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Harry was there, which surprised Harry so much he didn't notice that Crouch had released him.
"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.S, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response..."
"You stay here with him!" Harry said to Faykan and Krum. "I'll get Dumbledore, I'll be quicker, and I know where his office is…"
"Like I'm letting you go off alone Harry," Faykan said indignantly, "I'll go get Dumbledore, you stay here with Krum."
"He is mad," said Krum doubtfully, staring down at Crouch, who was still gabbling to the tree, apparently convinced it was Percy.
"Hurry Fay," said Harry, starting to get up, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who seized him hard around the knees and pulled Harry back to the ground.
"Don't... leave... me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I... escaped... must warn... must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... all my fault... Bertha... dead... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... the Dark Lord... stronger... Harry Potter..."
"I'm staying right here Mr. Crouch, Dumbledore is on his way!" said Harry. He looked furiously around at Faykan. "Get going, will you?"
Faykan turned and ran, sprinting up to the castle. Harry turned to look at Mr. Crouch, but he had started talking to the tree again.
Only a few moments passed before Harry heard slow footsteps approaching, but Faykan couldn't have made it to Dumbledore and back that fast. He turned, just in time to see the jet of red light hit him.
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Albus looked up as the door to his office opened unexpectedly. As Severus strode in, however, he hid his surprise with a twinkly smile. "Ah, Severus, what do I owe this pleasant visit?" he said genially.
"Not so pleasant, Albus," Severus said, walking right up to Albus' desk and folding his arms over his chest angrily, "I have discovered who assaulted Mr. Undol during the Yule Ball, and have come to consult with you on the boy's additional punishments…"
"Who is the culprit?" Albus asked innocently.
"Theodore Nott, from I am sorry to say, my own house." Severus said bitterly.
Albus tilted his head slightly to rest on his arm, "And what punishment do you think would be appropriate for a crime of this nature Severus?"
"Expulsion at the least, Headmaster, so that he cannot be around his victim to possibly harm him again." Severus said, anger flaring behind his eyes.
Albus nodded, only to show that he was listening, but then shook his head sadly, "I'm afraid Severus, that I cannot allow that to happen…" he said softly, waiting for the burst of rage that was sure to come.
"WHAT!" Severus roared, causing several small objects to vibrate on Albus' desk with the force of Severus' magic. "ARE YOU INSANE ALBUS?"
Albus calmly waited for Severus' blustering to die down before answering, "It is a simple reason Severus. If I expel young Mr. Nott, his father will learn of the reasons and who it was that caused his punishment, which in turn could lead to many unpleasant questions for you during you meetings with the remnant Death Eaters. If they were to discover how close you are to me, they would be all too willing to reveal you to Voldemort when he returns, and that would cripple our ability to successfully combat him."
"I don't want the boy to go unpunished, but risking expulsion would be walking onto thinner ice than I dare to tread," he assured.
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Severus listened stoically as the Headmaster gave his 'reasons' for not expelling Theodore Nott for his violent and repulsive crime. Inwardly, Severus was fuming, but he allowed the emotion to filter through his Occlumency wards and not show in the forefront of his mind, inwardly thanking Faykan Undol for his gift in the subject. The new techniques that Severus had learned were very effective for both the internal and external management of one's mind.
It was no wonder the boy was ably to manage more stress than any person Severus had ever encountered. The boy had quickly recovered mentally from the attack he was discussion with Albus now, although whether he would allow people near him physically again was yet to be seen. Severus' attempts to talk to the boy about establishing relationships to help him heal only caused the boy to flush in deep embarrassment, even more so if Potter was in the room.
"I understand Albus," Severus said after the Headmaster finished speaking, pushing all though of Undol to the back of his mind. As he exited Albus' office, Severus' mind wandered back to Theodore. Since Albus refused to do his duty for the assumed 'Greater Good' then Severus would take matters into his own hands to manage the boy, and make certain that there would never be a repeat of this incident.
The gargoyle moved aside before Severus had reached the landing, and he was almost toppled over as Undol dashed past. "Undol!" he said, grabbing the boy instinctively to prevent himself form falling. "What are you doing?" then he saw the boy's face.
"Undol, what's wrong, tell me, quick!"
"Dumbledore… Mr. Crouch… forest… Harry and Krum… hurry…" Undol panted. Severus took no time in reascending the stairs, three at a time, and shoving the door open. Albus stood, wand in hand and a startled look on his face, "Severus? What is it," he asked urgently.
"Undol has just arrived with news about Mr. Crouch showing up near the forest, and we should hurry I think." Severus said quickly.
Albus frowned, "Are you sure of this?" he said, striding quickly to where Severus stood, and following him down the stairs to Undol.
"I do not believe that Undol would lie about something this urgent." Severus said.
Albus walked right up to Undol, "Tell me everything." Albus said, and Undol explain that he, Potter, and Viktor Krum had been out near the forest chatting after the Third Task's revealing, and that Crouch had appeared, deranged and asking intermittently for the Headmaster, and sometimes acting as though suffering under the Imperius curse, from the boy's description Severus reasoned.
"Lead the way," Albus said, and together he and Undol darted down the corridor, at speeds Severus would neither expect from the pair or that he could hope to keep up with.