A/N: Essentially, what you recognize belongs to the goddess that is J.K. Rowling, and what you don't belongs to insignificant little me.
•~0~•
She stirred carefully, and the potion quickly changed to have a mother-of-pearl sheen, spiraling steam billowing up. Genevieve breathed in the scent, smelling, simultaneously, winter snow, fresh parchment, and a sort of sweaty, smoky scent that would, undoubtedly, be what Charlie smelled like.
She smiled.
Snape walked by, sneering. Genevieve suspected that he had assumed even she would botch the potion, as the making of Amortentia was extremely difficult. Ever since she had aided in Sirius' escape last year, he had been inspecting her work with a more critical eye than usual, trying to find mistakes in her typically flawless work.
His face crumpled in disappointment, but he quickly hid it, spitting an "acceptable" at her before slinking away.
"How do you do that?" Angelina said in exasperation. Her potion was still resolutely thick and solid colored. "I reckon you could sell some of your work, you've got natural talent for Potions. And your Amortentia is perfect."
Genevieve shrugged, grinning. She absentmindedly swept a beetle to the floor and watched it scurry away.
•~0~•
"Snow, Weasley, and Weasley."
They stopped in their tracks. The three knew better than to disrespect McGonagall.
"Have you any idea where the youngest Weasley boy and Granger are?"
"I think they're in the library, Professor," Genevieve said. "We can go get them for you, if you'd like."
McGonagall seemed more stiff than normal, if that was possible. Her mouth was set in a thin line, which Genevieve knew they, for once, weren't the cause of. The trio hadn't done anything recently - yet. But something about McGonagall's demeanor told Genevieve this wasn't a time to mess around.
"Please do." And she set off for her office.
Genevieve whistled softly.
"Whatever she has to do with Ron and Hermione, she's not looking forward to it," George commented.
" 'Course not. Why would she? It's Ron," Fred said with a smirk.
And they departed for the library.
Upon entering, they heard Hermione say, in exasperation, "Oh this is no use. Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"
"I wouldn't mind," Fred remarked. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"
"I'll never be able to look at your nose the same way again," Genevieve said in disgust.
"What're you three doing here?" Ron asked curiously. After all, it was rather rare to find the Weasley twins in a library.
"Looking for you. McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione," he informed.
"Why?"
"Dunno . . . she was looking a bit grim, though."
"We're supposed to take you down to her office."
Genevieve watched Harry's eyes widen in panic. Clearly, they were looking for something.
"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione said reassuringly to Harry, though she looked apprehensive herself. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"
"Right," Harry replied uncertainly.
"And I'll stay here," Genevieve offered. "Help you find whatever you're looking for. The library's like a second home for me - er, after the hospital wing."
He grinned as the rest of the group left.
"All right. What're you searching for?"
"Something to help me breathe underwater for an hour. For the second task."
Genevieve's brow furrowed. "I've read about that. I know I have. What is it?"
"You know the spell?" Harry seemed excited now.
"Thing is, I don't think it's a spell. I've always been able to memorize spells without a problem, but I can't think of this. It could be a plant," she said with a hint of doubt. "But I don't reckon we could find out in one night; there's much too many without knowing exactly what you're looking for, and even if we did, we'd have a job finding it so soon."
Harry slouched.
"There's the Bubble-Head Charm; it's not well-known, which would explain why you haven't been able to find it before now, but it could work . . . no . . it's much too tricky to learn in one night."
"Should we just keep reading through?"
"I suppose so," Genevieve replied, opening the nearest book.
And so they read. They read until eight, when Madam Prince closed the library and kicked them out. And they carried books to the common room to read still. But there was nothing.
It was only when they had finished the entire pile of books, Snowflake curled up in Genevieve's lap and Crookshanks in Harry's, and Genevieve was stifling a yawn every two minutes, that Harry told her to go to bed, and that he would, under the Invisibility Cloak, return to the library and keep reading.
Genevieve tried to protest, but a yawn cut her off, and she nodded sleepily before trudging up the stairs and collapsing into bed.
•~0~•
"Genevieve! Wake up! Do you want to watch the second task or not?"
She groggily opened her eyes. Katie was standing by the dormitory door, fully dressed and slightly irrititated. "Finally!
"The task starts in an hour. We've just enough time to eat breakfast before we go down to watch."
Katie flung some clothes at her. "Get dressed."
Knowing better than to disobey, she quickly dressed and they made their way to the Great Hall.
In the seats by the lake, they waited anxiously. Harry had yet to show up.
"Oh I hope he comes," Genevieve said, biting her lip. They were about to start.
As if on cue, Genevieve saw a blur dash onto the bank, near the judges table before finally stopping. Percy, who was once again in Crouch's place, looked extremely disapproving of the panting fourth year, the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang also looking disappointed Harry had managed to show up.
Bagman's voice, magically magnified, echoed, "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!"
Harry quickly ate some plant before entering the lake. Genevieve slapped her forehead.
"Gillyweed! How could I forget? How did he figure it out in time? How did he get some?"
"Shh!" Katie hissed.
Cedric and Fleur had used the Bubble-Head Charm, while Krum had done rather disastrous, but effective, human Transfiguration. He was now half-shark.
"Well, that's - er - interesting," Genevieve said. Katie scowled at her.
Harry had now completely disappeared. And so they waited.
"Wait," Genevieve said, frowning. "Where're Ron and Hermione? I haven't seen them since we sent them to McGonagall."
"Dunno," Fred responded. "Look!"
Fleur had resurfaced, covered in cuts and with ripped robes. She looked quite distraught.
They waited yet more time. Finally, Cedric appeared, with Cho.
"They took people?" Genevieve asked in disgust.
Soon after, Krum came up with Hermione, still part shark. He seemed eager to talk to her, or at least Genevieve thought. It was a little hard to read the emotions of a shark man. Hermione, on the other hand, was anxiously awaiting Harry's finish.
At long last, well past the hour mark, Harry's head popped out of the lake, accompanied by Ron and a younger girl who was, unmistakably, Fleur's sister.
Percy grabbed Ron, who looked annoyed at the sudden display of affection, while Genevieve was surprised.
"So he has a heart after all," she said, impressed.
Fleur was also hugging her little sister furiously, before Madam Pomfrey seized them all, stuffing them into blankets and force feeding them Pepperup Potion.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, was having an animated conversation with a mermaid, presumably the chief. After he finished, the judges went into deliberation.
Bagman's voice boomed out again. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows . . .
"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."
Genevieve clapped politely.
"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was the first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points.
"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.
"Harry Potte used gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own. Most of the judges," Bagman continued, shooting Karkaroff a rather disdainful look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."
Harry was now tied with Cedric! Genevieve cheered in victory. Now there was only the third task left . . .
•~0~•
Harry showed Genevieve a message from Sirius.
Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can. Buckbeak will be here too.
"Good," she muttered. "I can check up on him. Make sure Sirius is keeping his word. But wait - couldn't he get caught?"
"Yeah," Harry said worriedly.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," she said quickly. "He's made it almost two years already."
For the rest of the day though, the Slytherins looked at Genevieve and either sniggered or asked for help mockingly with Love Potions, which she vehemently rejected, though she didn't understand why it was happening at all.
Finally, Katie rushed up to her, looking shocked. She was holding a copy of Witch Weekly.
"You're in here!" Katie whispered fiercely. "Look!"
Genevieve took the magazine and flipped through it until she landed on a page plastered with Harry's face, an article with it.
Harry Potter's Secret Heartache
A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter though he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger, aided by gossip-happy and scheming Genevieve Snow, has been playing with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."
However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest. Miss Snow and her reported "natural talent for Potions," with a renowned ability to create Amortentia, an extremely potent Love Potion, may be in play here.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, regarding Miss Granger, "but she and Snow'd be well up to making a Love Potion, they're quite brainy, and they spend a lot of time together, whispering and surrounded by books. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
Genevieve laughed. "That's the best Skeeter can throw at me? Speculating that I'm spending my time creating a love triangle between two fourth-years and an eighteen-year-old?" She shook her head, trying to catch her breath. "She's pulling at straws, that woman."
Genevieve thought for a moment, though Katie still looked worried. "It's weird, though. That's exactly what Angelina said about me. That I'm a natural at Potions. How could she have known . . . ?"
"All I know," Katie said anxiously, "is that a lot of people are going to get mad about this."
"If people really get their knickers in a twist about what a few teenagers are doing, they need to reevaluate their life," Genevieve said, unconcerned.
•~0~•
Hermione, she learned, shared the same sentiments, and they departed the next day for a Hogsmeade visit to see Sirius, sneaking a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice in Harry's bag.
On the way to the meeting point, they went into Gladrags Wizardwear to purchase some socks for Dobby, whom, Harry had informed Genevieve, had been the one to give him the gillyweed. She rather enjoyed browsing the interesting selection, before the group decided on socks and left to see Sirius.
A large black dog waited for them, newspapers clamped tightly in its jaws. At Harry's greeting, it promptly turned and led the way to a hard to find cave. Buckbeak was tied inside it. Genevieve, along with the others, bowed to him before petting him gently, while Harry addressed Sirius.
"Chicken!" Sirius exclaimed with excitement, taking the food from Harry and eating it eagerly.
"Thanks. I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."
"What're you doing here, Sirius?"
"Fulfilling my duty as godfather. Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray. I want to be on the spot. Your last letter . . . well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."
"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"
"You four and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," Sirius responded, still eating almost desperately.
Genevieve stayed with Buckbeak while the others observed the Daily Prophets. Sirius, however, still munching, looked at her.
"Well?" He asked with mock anxiety. "What's the verdict?"
Genevieve examined Buckbeak closely. She sighed. "He seems well cared for," she said. "But the second he doesn't," Genevieve added, "you'll have me to answer to."
Sirius grinned, nodding. Harry and Ron were ignoring them completely, absorbed in an article about Mr. Crouch.
"They're making it sound like he's dying. But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here . . ."
"My brother's Crouch's personal assistant," Ron told Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."
"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," Harry continued. "The night my name came out of the goblet . . ."
"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" Hermione commented harshly from beside Genevieve. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now that she's not there to look after him."
Genevieve was suddenly very interested in watching Buckbeak eat the chicken bones. Ron, however, explained to Sirius.
"Hermione's obsessed with house-elves."
Sirius, however, thought this was strange. "Crouch sacked his house-elf?"
"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," and Harry told Sirius the story of what had happened.
Sirius began pacing in thought.
"Let me get this straight. You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"
"Right," they all replied.
"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"
"No," Harry answered. "I think he said he'd been too busy."
Sirius kept pacing. "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"
"Erm . . ." Harry'd brow furrowed in thought. "No. I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there was my Omnioculars. Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"
"It's possible."
Hermione interjected, rather adamantly, "Winky didn't steal that wand!"
Genevieve sighed. The girl's love for house-elves could really blind her at times. "Hermione, Winky wasn't the only other in the Box."
Sirius looked intrigued. "Who else was sitting behind you?"
"Loads of people. Some Bulgarian ministers . . . Cornelius Fudge . . . The Malfoys . . ."
"The Malfoys!" Ron said loudly without warning, causing Genevieve to jump and Buckbeak to react nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"
"Anyone else?" Sirius prompted.
"No one," Harry said.
"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione recalled.
"Oh yeah . . ."
"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. What's he like?"
"He's okay. He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."
"Does he now? I wonder why he'd do that?"
"Says he's taken a liking to me."
"Hmm," Sirius said thoughtfully.
"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared. Remember?" Hermione said.
"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" Ron pointed out. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."
"How d'you know?" Hermione said, still defiant. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"
"Come off it. Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"
"It's more likely he did it than Winky," Hermione argued.
"Hermione, you're willing to blame anyone just to prove Winky's innocent when nobody is saying she's guilty," Genevieve said with exasperation.
"Told you," Ron said to Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house - "
Sirius stopped him, holding up a hand.
"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"
"Went to look in the bushes, but there wasn't anyone else there."
"Of course, of course," Sirius said, talking more to himself than to them, "he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf . . . and then he sacked her?"
"Yes," Hermione replied angrily, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled - "
"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" Ron said, frustrated.
Sirius backed her. "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.
"All these absences of Barty Crouch's . . . he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too . . . It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."
"Try it, I dare you, and it will be the last thing you ever do," Genevieve said warningly.
Sirius grinned at her a bit.
"D'you know Crouch, then?" Harry asked.
His face filled with menace and hatred.
"Oh I know Crouch all right," he muttered. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."
"What?" Genevieve, Ron, and Hermione said in unison.
"You're kidding!" Harry exclaimed.
"No, I'm not. Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"
All four shook their heads, Genevieve still baffled.
"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic. He was a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," Sirius explained. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who are against the Dark Side . . . well, you wouldn't understand . . . You're too young . . ."
"I'm of age," Genevieve said, slightly offended.
"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," Ron said. "Try us, why don't you?"
Sirius smiled. "All right, I'll try you . . . Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing . . . the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere . . . panic . . . confusion . . . that's how it used to be.
"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who is headed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened . . . Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Dearh Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."
"Crouch's son was caught?" Hermione said in shock.
"Yes. Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . . gotten to know his own son."
Sirius had finished the chicken and begun eating the bread.
"Was his son a Death Eater?" Harry asked.
"No idea. I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I bet my life were Death Eaters - but he might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like that house-elf."
"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione asked.
Sirius laughed. "Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he said him straight to Azkaban."
"He gave his own son to the dementors?" Harry asked in a mixture of horror and disbelief.
"That's right. I saw the dementors bringing him in, watch them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days though . . . they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in their sleep . . ."
Sirius looked haunted.
"So he's still in Azkaban?"
"No. No, he's not there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."
"He died?"
"He wasn't the only one. Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. The boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife passed my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it.
"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made. One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic . . . next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."
A long silence followed Sirius' words. Genevieve understood why Crouch had acted so drastically at the World Cup; it had reminded him of all the worst times in his life. Finally, Harry broke the quiet, telling Sirius, "Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards."
"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him. If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater," Sirius said with a nod.
"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office," Ron added.
"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," Sirius said.
"Yeah, it does!" Ron said, but Genevieve interrupted.
"Ron, if Crouch wanted to keep an eye on Snape, he could have just come to the tournament tasks. He's a judge; it's the perfect excuse to keep Snape under his watch."
Sirius nodded.
"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.
"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape - "
"Oh give it a rest, Hermione. I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him - "
"She's not wrong, Ron," Genevieve said. Hermione kept on.
"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"
"I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out - "
"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry asked over all of them.
"I think they've both got a point. Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was." Genevieve supposed he still hadn't forgiven Snape for trying to catch him the past year. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school then half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."
Sirius started listing. "Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery - from what I've heard he worked his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater – not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."
"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," volunteered Ron.
"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday! Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was."
Sirius looked confused. "He showed Snape something on his arm? Well, I've no idea what that's about . . . but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers . . .
"There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."
"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?" Ron seemed determined to incriminate Snape.
"Well, I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts very seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though . . . he's a different matter . . . is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not . . . what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"
Sirius, after a moment's thought, turned to Ron. "You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"
Genevieve snorted. "Don't reckon anything'll come from it. Percy's too prideful and idolizes Crouch too much to even see if Crouch were doing something under his nose. And he won't take to being asked about it well."
"I can try," Ron answered skeptically. "I'd have to be careful not to make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Like Genevieve said, Percy loves Crouch."
"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it."
"Bagman told me they hadn't," Harry replied.
"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there. Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. Used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic . . . Maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long . . ."
Sirius sighed, rubbing his eyes.
"What's the time?"
"It's half past three, Hermione provided.
"You'd better get back to school. Now listen . . ." he shot a hard glance at Harry. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."
"No one's tried to attach me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows," Harry said.
"I don't care . . . I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourself, call me Snuffles, okay?"
Genevieve gave one last hug to Buckbeak.
"I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," Sirius offered, "see if I can scrounge another paper."
He turned back into the black dog and guided them back. Miraculously, Genevieve didn't trip anywhere, despite the steep incline of the mountain. While the others talked on the way back to Hogwarts, Genevieve was silent. What was going on here?