37 Darkness Falls

It was all too much. The desperate fight to get to her Harry, her first apparition, her first animagus transformation, the injuries from battling Voldemort, and finally, a portkey. Hermione lost her dinner all over the baby blue robes of Dumbledore.

The Headmaster in question was flabbergasted as his very distinguished robes became even more colorful. The debate between the judges and the ministers had been going on for some time, whether they could even go in after him or not. It all became moot when the Champion in question appeared before him, his girlfriend adding her stomach to the color of his robes.

"I see that as usual, Headmaster," Harry said as he held Hermione's hair back, "that you have dallied until the work was done once more."

"I beg your pardon?" Albus's indignant response held back nothing.

"Once again, because of you," Harry began, his anger seething, "I have been almost killed. Who the hell made the cup a God damned portkey? Why was mine the only path that led to the center? Why the hell did I just have to fight Voldemort," the shriek's of the crowd were ignored, "again?"

"What do you mean, Boy?" Fudge cut off a shocked Dumbledore's response, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead. Gone. No more."

"No, Minister," Harry disagreed. "He's back. He and his little death munchers just held a resurrection party in some graveyard."

"That's impossible! He's dead and gone, never to return." Fudge declared hotly.

"Around me, Minister," Harry sighed, "the impossible happens an awful lot. Not sure exactly how, but Pettigrew did some kind of ritual to give him a new body."

"Pettigrew is dead, he died thirteen years ago," Fudge bellowed. "You are wrong, stress from the tournament or something. You were confounded last year, must have been again!"

"Minister," Hermione asked shakily as she was coming down off her adrenaline high. "We were not confounded. You took the word of a Death Eater with a grudge who was unconscious for most of the events over eyewitnesses who saw everything. Then tried to…"

"HARRY!"

Hermione was cut off by the squeal of joy and the rough impact of a red headed young witch shoving her out of the way as she leapt at Harry. Ginny Weasley was not the brightest witch, nor the most tactful. It was most unfortunate for her that her path took her past Hermione on her way to get to Harry. It was also unfortunate that the adrenaline had not fully left Hermione and her battle instincts were still dialed up.

Neither Ginny, nor any of the spectators were ever sure exactly what spells were used, nor exactly how the young witch suddenly found herself flying through the air, antlers sprouting from her forehead, a pig nose, the worst case of acne seen in many years, boils, and hair that made Hermione's look smooth and silky. Her cries told those around her that those were only the exterior changes, that there was so much more that had been done to the little witch. The crowd parted as Hermione stalked over to the witch as she moaned on the ground.

"I don't know what your problem is you little tramp," Hermione's hair flowed behind her crackling with power, "but if you ever, and I mean ever…."

"Hermione," Harry's soft voice cut her off, just his voice calming her ire, "something is wrong here."

Hermione turned, confused as Harry placed a placating hand on her arm. She fought internally, between following his lead and giving the little hussy her just desserts, but eventually nodded, allowing Harry to continue. Harry crouched down, next to the writhing witch, and carefully extended his senses.

"You utter moron!" His eyes flared open, green power in them, and he rounded to face Dumbledore once more. "You conceited pompous idiot. You never helped her, did you? She never saw a healer after her first year, did she?"

The pure venom in his voice caused everyone to step back as Harry stalked over to Albus. The old man looked perplexed, utterly confused, and more than a little upset at being called such.

"Whatever are you talking about my boy," Albus tried to return to his grandfatherly persona. Unfortunately Harry was having none of it.

"She was possessed by a dark artifact all her first year and you never checked to see if it was completely gone, did you?" Harry snarled, and Hermione's head whipped up as she realized what was going on. Her ears fattened and her lips curled in a hissing snarl directed at the headmaster.

"It's still affecting her, isn't it?" She asked her raging husband.

"It is," Harry agreed, then bellowed, "Bill and Molly Weasley, come forward."

Hermione turned back to the suffering witch, and with a wave of her wand the hexes she'd been hit with faded. The anger and fury in Ginny's eyes as she regained her ability to think clearly was all it took for Hermione to stun her.

"Now see here, Boy," the minister shoved forward, "there is still the matter of…"

"Shut it." The wave of magic that pulsed as Harry snarled at the man caused many to pale. "There is someone in need of medical help here, you can wait."

"A condition your girlfriend caused," Fudge snarled. "In fact, Aurors, arrest her!"

"Stand down!" Madam Bones's voice cut through the hubbub, "Harry, Hermione, what is going on here?"

"Our second year, the Chamber of Secrets incident," Hermione began, "Ginny was possessed by a very dark artifact. It seems that our illustrious headmaster failed to ensure she got proper medical treatment and the residue has been festering in her." She turned to Bill and Molly. "I would recommend getting her to St. Mungos as quickly as possible. Get her help."

Bill, who had started to cast some charms on his sister, looked up in alarm. "How the bloody hell could you let this happen to my sister? This is some of the darkest curse residue I've ever seen."

"She was fine.." Albus started with forced calm.

"Apparently not, Headmaster," Hermione cut him off, "because she now reeks of dark magic. Since it was Tom Riddle's Diary that possessed her, and he now lives, it probably made it even worse than it was." Hermione took a deep breath, swaying slightly. "Where was your supposed care when it would have made a difference?"

Harry pulled her close, keeping her upright as the Weasleys left, Bill carrying his sister towards the gates. He too was flagging fast, but his instincts were screaming at him that something was still wrong. Then he felt it. The same feeling he'd felt from everyone in that graveyard, the stench he now associated with the dark mark.

"Headmaster," he sighed, his senses still reaching, "just how many death eaters are you welcoming into your castle this year?"

"I… what?" Dumbledore truly seemed confused by the change of subject.

"I asked how many death eaters you invited into the castle this year?" Harry repeated, "I understand that Snape has been here for years, and Karkaroff is from Durmstrang. But why on earth did you invite a third?"

"Third, Harry?" McGonagall asked, still huffing from running from the gates. "I knew about Snape, though I never agreed with that decision. Karkaroff served his time and, while I think he is still dark, he has paid the debt society demanded. Who is the third?"

"Stupify."

While everyone was hanging on Harry's words, Hermione had received his warning over their link, and as the former auror raised his wand, she stunned Alastor Moody.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing?" Albus demanded.

"I understand he's your friend, Headmaster," Harry sighed, "but that isn't Alastor Moody. For one, I doubt Moody would try to attack a student in the back. For another, from what everyone has told me, Alastor Moody would cut his own throat before taking the dark mark."

"He would," Amelia agreed, kneeling beside the downed old man. She pulled up his left sleeve, and frowned at the bare forearm before her. "Harry, he doesn't have the mark."

"Give it time. He'll show his true self within the hour," Hermione replied.

"Hour? Polyjuice?" Amelia backed up, looking askance at the prone form.

"99% sure," Hermione confirmed.

"How?"

"Not sure how he got the drop on the real Moody, but that happened before the start of the year," Harry said.

"The start of the year? Then why wait till now to reveal him?" Bones asked.

"We didn't know, not until the faceoff in the graveyard gave us the last piece."

"ENOUGH!" Fudge Bellowed, spittle flying. "Enough. I've heard enough from you two troublemakers. Aurors, they have attacked an Auror, arrest them, they will be tried and sent to Azkaban. Take them away."

"Stop!" Bones commanded. "Do you really think a fourth year would be able to get the drop on the real Moody? I don't. So we'll wait for the hour, then see. Until then, I'm taking both of you to the infirmary, getting you looked over, and getting statements about what happened in the maze."

It took everything Harry had to nod. The pain, the adrenaline letdown, the loss of his righteous anger. It all hit him. He looked over into Hermione's equally tired eyes, squeezed her hand with his, and darkness took him at last.


The world came back to them slowly, seeping into his awareness. First to return to Harry, was Hermione, curled up next to him. He wrapped himself in her presence, her being, as it reached out to him as well. Her love and comfort, laced with concern, reached out to him. He wrapped it around him, sending back reassurance and love in return.

The next thing that returned was the pain. He tried to catalog all the pain, but gave up after he realized it would be a much shorter list of things that didn't hurt. It would consist of only one thing, his link to Hermione. Everything else hurt. It was as if he was soaking in liquid fire. Taking a deep breath, and trying to center himself, he used the mental exercises to tune it out as much as he could. He was only partially successful. He knew it was still there, and could tell exactly what hurt, it was tuned down enough he could concentrate.

He finally turned his senses outward. He felt a familiar sensation beneath him, one he was far too familiar with: the crisp itchy feel of the Hospital wing bed linens. He heard people moving around in the wing, together they identified five individuals, including Madam Pomfrey. Hermione shifted beside him, curling further around him, and sighing contentedly.

"I think we have company," Harry whispered, opening his eyes and confirming their location, though he saw they were still behind a privacy screen.

"Tell them to bugger off," came her tart reply.

"I think one is Professor McGonagall," Harry told her, identifying their mentor's unique feel in magic.

"Who else?" she sighed, still trying to burrow deeper into him.

"Dumbledore for sure. Pomphrey too." He paused, concentrating, then continued, "I think Madam Bones and Fudge are the other two."

"Since I doubt you'll leave us alone until you have your say," Hermione called, her eyes still closed, "you might as well get it over with."

"Ah, Harry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said sagely, his voice filled with friendly tones. "Uh, Poppy, is it really appropriate for them to.. Uh…"

"Yes, absolutely," Pomphrey snapped as Dumbledore waved at the pair laying together in the hospital bed. "The after effects of the Cruciatus are quite painful, often reported as feeling like you're on fire, especially if they touch something. The pain response from these two however, actually goes down when in physical contact."

"But, Poppy, it is most inappropriate for…" Dumbledore started, only to be cut off.

"Stuff it, Headmaster," Harry growled. "We're here because you lot couldn't finish the job thirteen years ago."

"Now see here," Fudge huffed, "there is no evidence of your outrageous claims that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned. I demand you stop making this ridiculous right now."

"I have no evidence you have a functional brain," Hermione snapped, "I demand you stop pretending to have one."

"Miss Granger…" Albus started, only to be cut off by Madam Bones.

"Headmaster, while you were wasting time at Hogwarts," the DMLE director began, "Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall, Auror Tonks, and myself went to Little Hangleton. While the details are still being determined, there was some sort of ritual performed, the associated potion is unlike anything the Department has ever seen before. I can't say the facts are conclusive, but it is evident that something dark happened in that graveyard."

"That may well be Amelia," the minister snarled, "though whether it was someone else or even Potter himself, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead, gone, never coming back. I will not stand here and listen to the lies this boy spouts. Amelia, clean up the graveyard and be done with the whole affair."

"If you don't want to be here, then why are you?" Hermione asked hotly.

"Because, while I say he cheated once again, every other champion swore they never touched the cup. Since touching it triggered the portkeys and Mr. Potter showed up with it once he was done with his dark ritual, he is the TriWizard Champion. Here."

The bag Fudge slammed on the side table clinked down with a thud. The Minister then turned on his heel and stalked out of the wing, slamming the door behind him. Harry looked at Hermione. Seeing his confusion reflected on her face, he turned to McGonagall.

"What was that all about?" he asked. "It was like I killed his dog."

"Well, if you remember the beginning of the year when the tournament was announced," the transfiguration mistress grinned, "the prize is a thousand galleons. The minister agreed to award it before the whole fiasco and is upset he has to give it to you."

"I see."

"What happened with Professor Moody?" Hermione asked, then paled as the adults looked guilty and glanced at each other.

"It seems that Alastor Moody, the real one," Bones began, "has been kept hostage in a special compartment of his trunk all year."

"All year?"

"Apparently," McGonagall confirmed, "he was replaced by Barty Crouch Jr., a death eater believed to have died in Azkaban many years ago. It's still unclear how he escaped, but evidence found at Crouch Seniors house indicates he may have had a hand in it."

"So he put my name in the Goblet?" Harry asked, pieces starting to fall into place.

"We think so, it appears this year was all about getting you to the graveyard two nights ago."

"What did he have to say? Couldn't he have confirmed the planned resurrection ritual?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Fudge had him kissed by a dementor less than an hour after the polyjuice wore off." Minerva said sadly. "It buried any chance of getting any information from him."

"Son of a…" Harry cut himself off before Hermione could stop his outburst. Grinning apologetically to her, he turned back to the rest. "Well, that's awfully convenient. But I'm guessing technically legal and correct?"

"That's right," Amelia confirmed. "Escape from Azkaban is an automatic kiss on sight verdict."

"Even if they were falsely imprisoned?"

"Only way to get it lifted is to be found innocent of the crimes they are accused of. That requires a trial, and a vote by the Wizengamot." Amelia informed them.

"Bugger," Harry muttered, then cried in pain as Hermione's elbow found his ribs. "Sorry Mione."

"It's ok Harry, I realize there's a lot going on for you." She kissed the side of his head gently, then turned to the Headmaster. "And what do you want to heap on Harry now?"

"Nothing so onerous as all that," Dumbledore said lightly. "Just ensuring that Harry is fit and ready to return to his relatives tomorrow."

The look that passed between the couple, Minerva, Amelia, and Poppy spoke of many things, such as incredulity at the Headmaster's presumption. It also had confusion and a determination to keep the meddling old wizard out of the loop.

"My relatives?" Harry asked cautiously, keeping his true feelings out of his voice.

"Indeed, it is imperative, now more than ever, that you return to your relatives." Albus assured them in a tone that indicated he felt this was obvious and certain.

"Actually, I had been considering other plans for the summer, Headmaster. Get out and see some of the world as it were."

"I'm afraid I must insist, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly, ignoring the incredulous looks from Minierva and Amelia. "I understand you likely wish to spend some time with Miss Granger, but it simply is not safe for you anywhere else."

"Why sir? This is not the first time you've insisted I return to that house, and I want to know why." Harry demanded.

"It's complicated, but now that he has returned, you must return to Privet Drive."

"We have plenty of time sir," Harry's tone had gotten darker. "It's also questionable as to why you have such a keen interest in where I spend my time outside of Hogwarts. Do you dictate to every student where they can go during the summer?"

"You must admit you are a rather special student, Harry. I'm merely trying to do what is best for you," Albus said in a grandfatherly way.

Hermione cut in, shoving love and support to Harry over their link, "You still haven't answered his questions."

"What?"

"Why must he return and why do you care so much?"

"Well, Miss Granger," Dumbledore looked around, then pulled out his wand and flicked it around the room, causing a simmering privacy ward to appear, "there are wards at Privet Drive that keep Harry safe. Wards I placed when I left him there those many years ago. Wards that are tied to him, that require he return for a time each year to recharge them."

"You used blood wards on a toddler? Are you insane?" Amelia screamed.

"It was the safest thing I could do, Amelia," Albus sighed. "It had to be done to protect him. So long as he calls the house on Privet Drive his home, Voldemort will not be able to find him there."

"I see," Hermione said softly, and Harry felt her mind racing at light speed over their link. "In that case… Harry, I think you may need to return to your Family." The emphasis on family was not lost on their audience, nor on Harry himself. Albus delighted that Miss Granger was referring to the Dursleys as Harry's family, while the rest caught that she never said Dursley or relatives, but family. They all knew that, to Harry, his family was the Grangers.

"If you think so Hermione," Harry put as much sadness as he could into his voice. "Can I at least visit you?"

"I think by August you should be able to take a short trip Harry, maybe a weekend or something." Dumbledore allowed with a grin, a grin that fell when he saw the look on Amelia Bones's face.

"Come along, Headmaster," The Director of the DMLE said darkly as she grabbed his arm, "let's discuss your decision to use blood wards on an infant, shall we?"

A/N: So here ends fourth year, but what awaits our heroes in their summer and next year? What did Harry do with Voldemort's magic? What is this mysterious calling they have? Will they find animagus magic counters lycanthropy? Answers will come, eventually. I am currently working on fifth year, but i'm adjusting some details and the next chapter may take a little longer to get out, as things relate throughout the first half of fifth year. Never fear, I shall complete this story… even if it kills me.