A/N: Hey everyone! I have not mentioned this yet, but I am disabled. These past few days have been a struggle to say the least, but I wanted to get this chapter out to you all. I am so sorry to say that this chapter is not my best work. I was torn between getting this chapter out as quickly as possible or writing it with the quality that you all deserve. I chose the former and hope you don't hate me for it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters. All of that belongs to the brilliant JK Rowling. Some parts of this fic may be taken directly from the book. I by no means intend to plagiarize. Some things are just too good to make any changes to.

Chapter 4:

Clunk clunk clunk, The sound of wood on marble bouncing off of walls. The noise brought Harry half way out of his stupefied state. The haziness his head felt the way fog rolling through the streets looked. Even being in this state was not enough to preserve the fact that he was in fact being moved. Someone strong supported his upper body while the lower half dragged along behind them.

Once pale white, now dyed in red blood, his eyelids fluttered open enough to see where he was. This place looked familiar. Ancient brick walls, high ceilings, and flagstone floors. The boy's eyes changed from dull green to emerald as he recognized the atmosphere. They were moving up a staircase right off from the entrance hall.

Being in the historic castle, which he claimed as his home for the past four years, was enough to put Harry's mind at ease. He dared to look up to see who the forceful arms carrying him belonged to. He was a tad shocked that he was being moved in such a way and not by Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey. With all the might he could muster, Harry chanced a look. Mad-eye Moody, normal eye facing forward, was the culprit. The auror's false crystal blue glass eye fixed on the top of Harry's black mess of hair. They turned a sharp corner to get to the next corridor.

Moody's magical eye observed that the boy had stirred, "Don't worry Potter, we're going to my office," Moody growled. Still pulling Harry along, they made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower on the second floor. Patting the many pockets on his messy robes, he withdrew a key and shoved it into the rusty door lock.

With the flick of his wand, the room illuminated. He deposited the boy onto a nearby wooden chair. Even with all of the candles lit, the room was rather dark. It looked as if neither he nor any house elves had ever stepped in the room to tidy up. Right in front of the chair upon where Harry now sat, was Professor Moody's desk. He only had been there once before when the professor asked Harry what he was going to do about the Hungarian Horntail. That felt like ages ago, Harry felt like he had aged one hundred years tonight.

Atop the large wooden desk, smoke drifted across the round Foe glass. The eyes of Moody's enemies glaring through. Harry's eyes, now dull again, stared without seeing into the Foe glass. It was something else to pay attention to. Reality was unkind at the moment.

The older man had left the room into what seemed to be his chambers through a connecting door to the right. At some point, Moody made his way over to the boy whom was soaked in his own gore. Crouching down directly in front of him to be at eye level, he spoke,

"You alright, Potter? Does it hurt, that?" He pointed with his chin to the lightning bolt scar that was not much of a lightning bolt anymore; more of a gaping hole in his head. Harry was still looking straight ahead, no life in the green eyes. He managed a miniscule nod to answer his professor's question. Moody's hands rested on the boy's thighs to steady himself, both eyes boring straight into his. The murky enemies' eyes floating around the edges of the Foe glass were becoming whiter and whiter.

"The Dark Lord returned?" It took a moment for that question to sink in. Flashbacks of the past few hours zipped behind his eyes. Cedric. Voldemort. Death Eaters. Pain, so much pain.

Harry finally looked into the up into the eye that stared at him. How did he know that? Moody saw the confusion on Harry's face and answered the unasked question. "I heard you telling Dumbledore. Being an auror for so long has magnified my senses. I can hear things no one else can." Harry nodded, not wanting to speak.

"Were there others? In the graveyard, were there Death Eaters?" Moody sounded almost hysterical now. He gripped Harry's legs with more force until they began shaking. The two of them now vibrating in sync. The professor's eyes were wide in panic and curiosity.

It hit Harry a moment later that he never mentioned the graveyard to him, or Dumbledore even. With his throat feeling like he swallowed a porcupine, he managed, " I don't think I said anything about a graveyard, professor."

The boy was too smart for his own good. Despite the damage that had been afflicted upon him, he was able to catch that ruddy detail. Harry became as alert as he was while he had been running through the maze; the foe glass's reflection, even whiter now, dancing in his eyes.

"Did he forgive them? Did he forgive the loathsome scum?" The rough older man was now shaking and smiling in the most disturbing way. He seemed frantic, convulsing with overrun emotion.

Harry did not answer. Although cornered in his seat, he attempted to stand and back away from the madman. Something isn't right.

Moving closer to Harry's reddened face; he was practically bent over him in his seat so he would not be able to back away anymore. "I asked you whether he forgave the vermin who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him like I did!" Moody was shouting now. Harry was not sure how much longer he could hold on. He was running on pure adrenaline now.

Just as the professor began to remove his wand from his robe pocket, multiple things happened at once. The Foe glass illuminated the office with dazzling silver, a voice bellowed "Reducto," and the oak entrance blasted off its hinges. Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, and Snape now stood in the door's place. The explosion blew Moody off of Harry whose false burst of energy began to fail. His eyelids began to weigh more and more.

Papers were now strewn everywhere. In place of the door in which the three professors arrived, lay only remnants of splinters. The body that flew backward from the detonation, crashed on top of the large desk. When Dumbledore made his way over to look at the prone figure on the desk, realization dawn on his face.

"What is it, Albus?" Snape asked eyeing the look on the man's face.

"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore, eyes unmoving, "Minerva, please take control of the situation for now. Mr. Potter is in need of care immediately," With one final look of confusion, shock, and awe, Dumbledore turned to face his colleagues and Harry whom appeared to be unable to keep himself awake, "Severus, please accompany me."

Neither professor looked back. They loaded Harry on to a conjured stretcher, and made their way to the hospital wing.

A/N: I promise better and longer writing for the future. All I can hope for is forgiveness. Finally next chapter Harry will receive the care that he has been denied for far too long. Please favorite, follow, and review! Reviews are very helpful for me to better my writing.