32 Death and Remorse

"Dare I ask how you did it?" McGonagall asked the pair a few days later.

"Did what, Professor?" Hermione returned innocently.

"You may have improved your ability to keep secrets and tell lies since the incident with the troll, Mrs. Potter, but I can still tell when you are lying."

"She wasn't lying, Professor. She asked a question," Harry pointed out.

"I know it was both of you," McGonagall said huffily, "no one else has the power needed to make those spells so effective."

"What spells?" Hermione continued her innocent act with a huge grin.

"Oh please," McGonagall snarked, "try it on someone who doesn't know you so well. I don't care that you did it, in fact, I am honestly impressed. Plus, I think the Headmaster really is overdue."

"I think it's time to come clean, love." Harry grinned, leering at his wife. "We actually discussed this, after all, just with us bringing it up."

"You did?" Minerva was surprised at this.

Hermione sighed and nodded her head. "While it has been effective, and technically not against the rules, there is a degree of guilt to it."

"Why?" Minerva sat back, considering the duo.

"Because while we feel they deserve it, this group didn't really break any rules. What they did was underhanded and greedy, there's no doubt about that, but they didn't really break any rules," Harry confessed.

"They were hoarding books," Hermione sniffed, clearly affronted by the students' actions. "There's a reason books can only be borrowed for a set time. What I want to know is how they managed to get them checked out again so fast."

"I discussed the incident with Madam Pince. It seems that they had one of their group standing by. Once a book was checked in and on it's way to the shelves, they intercepted it. She couldn't do anything because, as you said, it technically did return to circulation," McGonagall explained.

"Our problem is two fold." Hermione sighed as she dropped her eyes to where her fingers lay in her lap. "First, are we doing the right thing, and two, why do we have to be the ones that do it?"

"I see." Minerva was quiet for several long moments before continuing, "Let me ask this: Why do you do it?"

"Because there are lines that shouldn't be crossed," Harry started, then paused at a thought. "No, that's too self serving. We did it because we could and it needed doing."

"Accepted, but why?" McGonagall pushed, "I understand the first ones, they actually broke the rules, but why these students?"

"I think," Hermione blew out a slow breath as she gathered her thoughts and continued, "I think part of it was my personality, my love of books and the thirst for knowledge."

"No," Harry interrupted her, "that wasn't it, at least not entirely. You love knowledge, but you never hoard it. They did. They took advantage of a loophole to cause themselves to be the only ones with access to it, the only ones that could use it. And that is wrong. It may technically have been within the rules, but it was against the spirit of not only the rules but the purpose of school as well."

"Care to explain that?" McGonagall asked archly, but without heat.

"I think what Harry is trying to say, Professor," Hermione picked up the train of thought, "is that schools and libraries are supposed to be there to provide and share knowledge. If someone withholds that knowledge, by not teaching or not returning a borrowed book, they are denying that knowledge to others. Now, if it were an accident or they had a driving need for it and intended to return it as soon as they could, that's one thing. But these individuals did it with the intent to deny it to others, they were greedy."

"And that right there is why I'm not raging against you right now," Minerva said with only a little rancor, "and your punishment fit the crime. They were not harmed and it corrected the symptom."

"The symptom? You mean that it's a symptom of the larger problem we can't correct at this point?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry, but maybe if we correct enough symptoms, the cause will weaken."


The full moon in May was a new experience, as it was the easiest and most simple transformation yet. They had found that by merely staying close to each other (in this case just curled up snuggling in bed) the transformation was not as painful as when they were parted, though Harry still had issues with his growth spurt. The full moon being on a Sunday did cause some headaches, but they were used to catching up, or in Hermione's case, staying ahead in their classes. This was also the first time they'd been able to leave the castle and roam the grounds while in their were-forms in months. Between the snow and the weather, they hadn't escaped the castle during the full moon since January.

One odd thing they noted, was the reactions of the other creatures in the night. The prey animals still shied away from them, all animals did in fact, but they had a curious encounter with a dire wolf. They were tracking a deer, letting their instincts guide them when they got a danger sense. The deer in front of them apparently had the same sense, and bolted. It got two leaps before the giant wolf took it down. The pair paused,wary, watching as the beast completed its kill before turning to them. Seeing them fully, the dire wolf had cocked its head appraisingly for a short time before picking the carcass up and laying it at their feet. It then backed up, bowed its head to them, and left.

Discussing it later left them more puzzled than anything. It seemed like the wolf had not noticed them, but once it had, had offered them his kill. Maybe it felt that it had stolen their kill, but why would it have cared?

This confused them off and on for the next two weeks, when they found something far more important to worry about.

Summoned to meet Ludo Bagman in the Entrance hall after dinner, all four champions now followed him warily to the Quidditch Pitch where Hagrid's gardening experiment was taking shape.

Four foot hedge rows were seen, creating a maze. It stretched across the entire field and beyond, an immense construction. As they watched, the tops of the maze seemed to waver as an unseen wind swept across it, and once it calmed, the maze had changed.

"As you can see," Bagman started to explain, "the last task is a maze. And don't bother trying to overfly it and figure out the path through, it will change constantly. Your goal is to get past any obstacles in your way and make it to the center, where the Triwizard cup will await you."

"So, you're throwing us into an ever changing maze, I'll bet chock full of overly dangerous creatures, traps, and plants. And skill will not play as big a part as you could just get lucky with the way the maze changes and get there first even if you never face a challenge." Cedric summarized.

"I wouldn't put it that way myself…" Bagman stammered, put off by the rancor in Cedric's voice. "I'm sure everyone will face equally challenging opponents."

"So I'll only face fourth year level traps and creatures while they will face bigger ones? Do I get my own separate maze then?" Harry asked venomously.

"Well no, they will all be the same challenges," Bagman acknowledged.

"So not equally challenging," Harry said matter-of-factly, "and what happens when someone reaches the cup? Do all the traps and creatures disappear?"

"No," Ludo was getting upset now, "but the winner will be transported to the winner's circle at the beginning of the maze."

"And what about the rest of the competitors? Will they be transported out as well?" Krum asked.

"I… well…" Bagman stammered again, "That is…"

"Forget it guys," Harry turned to walk away, "we should have realized by now that they don't care about anything but making it entertaining, even if it costs them a champion or two. We'll just have to look out for our own safety, just like last time."

"Now see here, Mr. Potter," Bagman yelled at the retreating form. "How dare you accuse us of not caring about the champions' well being!"

"How dare I?" Harry spun and pinned Bagman with his piercing gaze. "You check our wands once, weeks before the first task and never again. It took five minutes, why not do it before each task to ensure it's working properly before you make us use it? And the tasks, first you put us against Dragons; a creature that normally takes a team of a dozen trained wizards to subdue. Next, you take innocent people hostage, playing with their lives as well as ours. And don't get me started on that Hellacampus that someone added to liven the competition up. Now you send us into a complicated maze, with no way to extricate ourselves, even once the competition ends? Please, all you care about is looking good."

"Fine then, Mr. Potter, how would you protect the champions?" Bagman spat.

"Well, for one, I'd start with a wearable emergency portkey," Harry said, silently thanking Hermione for her idea, "activated by one of three things: A code word, allowing the champion to self extract if they are in immediate danger, A health monitoring charm that would extract them should they fall unconscious, or a remote trigger that pulls them out once the champion has returned."

"I… That actually is a good idea." Ludo rocked back.

"See, it is possible to think of the participants' safety and still have your entertainment," Cedric pointed out.

"Another idea," Krum said, backing Harry up, "you should have instructors on brooms monitoring the maze from above. They would ensure no permanent harm comes to the participants and can contain out of control situations."

"But that would constitute an interference in the task. You'd lose your magic!" Bagman sputtered.

"Not necessarily," Fleur denied. "Eef it was ze judges who monitored ze maze, as zey'd 'ave to anyway, yourself and Meester Crouch, or even your aurors, could save a champion in need of rescue without constituting help from their school."

"I will pass your suggestions on to the committee." Bagman sagged.

The foursome watched Bagman scurry away and began their walk back to the castle. They neared Hagrid's hut, discussing possibilities for the task, when it happened. Harry turned to talk to Fleur and saw the red spell streaking towards them and acted.

"Down," he called, pulling Fleur forward, out of the path of the spell.

As all four ducked down, wands drawn, several things became apparent. The first was that there were two individuals in the forest, but only one was casting. The second was the spell that had almost hit them, was not aimed at them, but had merely missed its intended target. The last, was it seemed like the caster was trying to capture the other figure, who was barely evading the spells tossed at him.

"Fleur, go , left. Cedric, go get help from the castle. Try to capture them if you can." Harry said decisively, ordering them as if he was a general on a battlefield.

With three nods of acknowledgement, the foursome split up, red stunning spells flying at the pursuer as they spread out, flanking the pair. The pursuer, a tall, thin man, deftly dodged the stunners, batting Harry's aside as he closed in on his victim. The apparently older man he was pursuing stumbled, and as he fell, his chaser acted. Noting that the trio were getting closer, and their spells harder to defend against, he ended the confrontation with two simple actions.

"Avada Kedavra!" he bellowed, the sickly green spell striking his victim in the back as he struggled to regain his feet. It was followed by the crack of apparition, signaling the attacker had fled.

Cautiously, the remaining champions edged forward, approaching the downed man.

"Eet is Mister Crouch!" exclaimed Fleur as she turned the elder man over.

"But why, how…" Victor asked, clearly confused. "What is he doing here?"

"Being murdered by Potter, obviously," a voice called from behind them. "Finally showing your true colors are we?"

The trio turned to find Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime approaching with a slightly winded Cedric.

"And how was I to do that? According to you I'm a pompous pretty boy with no talent who has to cheat during the tasks, so how could I have the ability or knowledge to pull this off? Your own champion was with me the whole time. And before you say I confunded him, what about Cedric, he wasn't here and will tell the same tale." Harry retorted.

"You did it boy, we all know it." Karkaroff turned to Dumbledore. "I demand your aurors be called; this boy has killed, and needs to be arrested and thrown in Azkaban before he can do so again."

"Headmaster," Victor said slowly, anger bleeding into his words, "you are delusional. Ever since we have arrived, you have derided and blatantly attacked Mr. Potter, with no explanation or proof. Why is that?"

"Headmistress," Fleur turned to plead to Maxime, "as I know you are a fair mistress, I agree with Headmaster Karkaroff's request we call the British Aurors, but for them to investigate Mr. Karkaroff and his actions, as well as the death of Mister Crouch. I ask because of this: how did Mr. Karkaroff know Mr. Crouch was dead, as he was not here when Mr. Crouch was killed."

"There is only one spell that is the color of the killing curse, Miss Delecour," Dumbledore said sadly, "and we all saw it as we approached."

"Then why does Mr. Karkaroff believe Harry did it? Why not Victor, as he has actually studied the dark arts? Or me even? Why does he jump at every chance to attack Harry?" Fleur demanded.

"This incident will be looked into, I can assure you, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore said placatingly. "For now however, I suggest we retire to the castle, and ensure you are all safe before we continue."

A look between the four champions communicated much, foremost, their doubt that any action above the bare minimum required for the discovery of a dead body, would be taken.

It wasn't until much later that night, after almost everyone in the castle had gone to bed, that a snowy white owl made its way south from the owlery, carrying a very interesting letter, to a very important friend.