Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's. Except for Jamie, Luka, and Ariana.

Chapter 26- Search for Answers

"It comes down to this," says Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking."

"It must've been Crouch," says Ron at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," says Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak — I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" says Hermione.

"Okay . . . how's this for a theory," I say excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch — no, wait for it — and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" says Hermione coldly. Ron's smile drops, and I shrug my shoulders. It had only been a theory after all.

"Oh yeah . . ." Ron sighs unhappily.

It is daybreak. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I crept out of our dormitories very early and hurry up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now we are standing looking out at the misty grounds. All four of us are puffy-eyed and pale because we have been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.

"Just go through it again, Harry," says Hermione. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense," says Harry. "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault. . . . He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault," says Hermione testily.

"He was out of his mind," says Harry. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"Percy even a lap dog in insanity. I don't see his career advancing anytime soon. Do you?" I say slightly amused. Ron snickers, and we share a high five getting one over on the prat who makes our lives miserable when we're back home. I freeze for a second, realizing that I had just thought of the Burrow, and the small room that I share with Ginny as home.

A small tendril of fear shoots through me, but I find that the idea of having my home be with the huge Weasley clan not as intimidating as I thought that it'd be.

"And . . . remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" says Ron tentatively.

"I've told you," Harry repeats dully. "He said he's getting stronger."

There is a pause. Then Ron says in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving. . . ."

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," says Harry, and Ron winces at the sound of the name. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

"Well that's comforting, I mean just a little. At least he wanted to tell Dumbledore about all of this." I say softly looking up at the perch that Dionysus and Hedwig are sharing. They're burrowed together, and looking very snuggly from where I'm standing. Even our owls are beginning to form relationships now. I shake my head fondly at that thought.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry says bitterly, "we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy, Potter . . . what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" says Ron quickly. "Maybe — hang on — how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," says Harry.

"Wouldn't put it past him," I mutter, and Harry grins at me grimly.

"We need to see Professor Moody," says Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," says Harry.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," says Ron, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't —"

"Shh!" says Hermione suddenly. Somebody is climbing the steps up to the Owlery. I can hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

"— that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that —"

"— we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did —"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?" The Owlery door bangs open. Fred and George come over the threshold, then freeze at the sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred say at the same time. I can't help but let a little snicker out at that. Who says that all the Weasley boys have nothing in common except for Fred and George.

"Sending a letter," say Harry and George in unison. I laugh this time.

"And I thought that twins were the only ones who were to say the same things at the same time." I say amused.

"What, at this time?" says Hermione and Fred completely ignoring me. Fred grins.

"Fine — we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he says. He is holding a sealed envelope in his hands. I glance at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifts his hand so that the name on it is covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred says, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron doesn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" he asks. The grin vanishes from Fred's face. I see George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he says easily.

"Didn't sound like that," says Ron.

Fred and George look at each other. Then Fred says abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but —"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," says Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," says George. He walks over to Fred, pulls the letter out of his hands, and begins attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" says Ron hotly.

"Can you tell me at least? I unlike some people know how to keep my trap shut." I say pointedly gesturing towards Ron, ignoring the baleful glare that I get in return for that.

"Sorry Jame, can't do this time, the less residents of Chateau Weasley that know about this the better. Plausible deniability for mum and all of that." George tells me, and Fred gives me a sympathetic look.

"Fine." I pout not happy about being left out of the fun this time, even if its as illegal as blackmailing. George carries the barn owl over to the window and it takes off. George turns around and grins at Ron.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later." He and Fred leave the Owlery. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I stare at each other.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione whispers. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No," says Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

Ron, however, is looking uncomfortable, and I feel the same, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell anyone else about the plan.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asks us.

"Well . . ." says Ron slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're . . . they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them — when — you know —"

"We weren't talking." Harry finishes the sentence for him. "Yeah, but blackmail . . ."

"It's this joke shop idea they've got," Ron says. "I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."

"Yeah I've known about it from this summer. I helped them with some of the plans. They're actually rather brilliant." I admit. Hermione is looking uncomfortable now.

"Yes, but . . . they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold."

"Wouldn't they?" says Ron, looking skeptical. "I dunno . . . they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"

"Yes, but this is the law," says Hermione, looking scared. "This isn't some silly school rule. . . . They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron . . . maybe you'd better tell Percy. . . ."

"Are you mad?" I cry. "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in." Ron and I stare at the window through which Fred and George's owl left, then say, "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione asks as we go down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," says Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."

History of Magic has rarely gone so slowly. I keep checking Ron's watch, having left my own, but Ron's is moving so slowly I swear it has stopped working. All four of us are so tired we could happily have put our heads down on the desks and sleep; even Hermione isn't taking her usual notes, but is sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

This was going to be the death of me, boredom by History of Magic. It would look absolutely ridiculous on my gravestone. When the bell finally rings, we hurry out into the corridors towards the Dark Arts classroom and find Professor Moody leaving it. He looks as tired as we feel. The eyelid of his normal eye is drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

"Professor Moody?" Harry calls as we make our way towards him through the crowd.

"Hello, Potter," growls Moody. His magical eye follows a couple of passing first years, who speed up, looking nervous; it rolls into the back of Moody's head and watches them around the corner before he speaks again. "Come in here."

He stands back to let us into his empty classroom, limping in after us, and closing the door.

"Did you find him?" Harry asks without preamble. "Mr. Crouch?"

"No," growls Moody. He moves over to his desk, sits down, stretches out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulls out his hip flask.

"Did you use the map?" Harry asks.

"Of course," says Moody, taking a swig from his flask. "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there." Where there goes our best idea out the window.

"So he did Disapparate?" asks Ron.

"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" cries Hermione. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

Moody's magical eye quivers as it rests on Hermione. "You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," he tells her. "Mind works the right way, Granger." Hermione flushes pink with pleasure.

"Well, he isn't invisible," says Harry. "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"But under his own steam?" says Hermione eagerly, "or because someone made him?"

"Yeah, someone could've — could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?" says Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wants to be told he has the makings of an Auror. I'm not sure that I would want to be an auror when I grow up. This is a lot of danger as it is in the first place.

"We can't rule out kidnap," growls Moody.

"So," says Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?" I shake my head at that. It's too obvious. There's already one wanted person hiding there, the odds of a second is slim.

"Could be anywhere," says Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here."

He yawns widely, so that his scars stretch, and his lopsided mouth reveals a number of missing teeth. Then he says, "Now, Dumbledore's told me you three fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" says Harry. "Oh yeah . . ."

"Should be right up your street, this one," says Moody, looking up at Harry and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. "From what Dumbledore's said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerer's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron says quickly. "Me, Hermione, and Jamie helped." Moody grins.

"Well, help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win," says Moody. "In the meantime . . . constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance." He takes another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swivels onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship is visible through it.

"You three," counsels Moody, his normal eye on Ron, Hermione, and me, "you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same . . . you can never have too many eyes out."

"Oh and Pendragon. You best not be setting anyone aflame from here on out. You won't be wanting to be going to Azkeban anytime soon. That would be a family reunion you won't want." He tells me once the others are out of earshot. I scowl at him, and leave the classroom as fast as I can. I really don't like that professor, besides the obvious I just can't pinpoint why.

Sirius sends our owl back the very next morning. It flutters down beside Harry at the same moment that a tawny owl lands in front of Hermione, clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in its beak. She takes the newspaper, scans the first few pages, said, "Ha! She hasn't got wind of Crouch!" then joins Ron, Harry, and me in reading what Sirius has to say on the mysterious events of the night before last.

Harry — what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron, Jamie, and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again.

Sirius

"Who's he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?" says Harry in mild indignation as he folds up Sirius's letter and puts it inside his robes. "After all the stuff he did at school!"

"He's your godfather. That's like a parent, and parents worry." I explain softly, trying to get Harry to understand.

"He's worried about you!" says Hermione sharply. "Just like Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!"

"No one's tried to attack me all year," says Harry stubbornly. "No one's done anything to me at all —"

"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire," I remind him. "And they must've done that for a reason, Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're going to get you."

"Look," says Harry impatiently, "let's say Sirius is right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?"

"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd murdered you in the forest!" says Hermione. "But if you die during a task —"

"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" says Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something."

"Harry, I don't understand it either," says Hermione desperately. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on, and I don't like it. . . . Moody's right — Sirius is right — you've got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And you make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you're not going to go sneaking off alone again."

The four of us share a solemn look, as the rest of the school and its guests chatter along around us. Why is it that we never seem to have a lighthearted moment of our own?

The Hogwarts grounds never look more inviting than when we have to stay indoors. For the next few days we spent all of our free time either in the library with looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which we sneak into to practice. Harry is concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he has never used before. The trouble is that practicing it involves certain sacrifices on Ron's, Hermione's and my part.

If only there were easier ways to keep Harry alive. "Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?" Ron suggests on Monday lunchtime as he lies flat on his back in the middle of our Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and reawoken by Harry for the fifth time in a row. "Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby, Harry, I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything" — he gets gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside — "but I'm aching all over. . . ."

I unconsciously rub my sore behind as well, having just finished my turn with Harry not a little while ago. He's lucky that I care about having him come out of this tournament alive or I would have left him on his own long ago.

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" says Hermione impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions we have used for the Banishing Spell, which Flitwick has left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backward!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione!" says Ron angrily. "Why don't you take a turn?"

"I hate to agree with him, but he's got a point. I still can't feel the tips of my fingers. Is that a bad thing?" I ask hesitantly, looking at my shaking hands.

"Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway," says Hermione hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because he's been able to do that for ages. . . . I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening." She looks down the list we made in the library.

"I like the look of this one," she says, "this Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you, Harry. We'll start with that one."

The bell rings. We hastily shove the cushions back into Flitwick's cupboard and slip out of the classroom.

"See you at dinner!" says Hermione, and she sets off for Arithmancy, while Harry, Ron, and I head towards North Tower, and Divination. I still swear that one of these days I'm going to smack her between the eyes. Broad strips of dazzling gold sunlight falls across the corridor from the high windows. The sky outside is so brightly blue it looks as though it has been enameled.

"It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts out that fire," whines Ron as we start up the staircase towards the silver ladder and the trapdoor.

"Well maybe you can faint, and use it as an excuse to get out of class, while you go to the hospital wing." I say attempting to be helpful.

Ron grins at me. "Hey, that's brilliant Jame! I'd kiss you if you weren't like my sister!" Ron exclaims. I shudder, and gag at the thought of Ron kissing me. It'd be like Luka kissing me, and that's a horrifying thought. Great, now that ghastly image is stuck in my head.

Maybe it will make me sick, and I won't have to participate in class today. Ron is quite right. The dimly lit room is swelteringly hot. The fumes from the perfumed fire are heavier than ever. My head swims as I make my way over to one of the curtained windows. While Professor Trelawney is looking the other way, disentangling her shawl from a lamp, I opened it an inch or so and settle back in my chintz armchair, so that a soft breeze plays across my face. It is extremely comfortable, and Harry scoots closer to me in order to share the breeze.

"My dears," says Professor Trelawney, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at us with her strangely enlarged eyes, "we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights. . . ."

She waves her wand and the lamps go out. The fire is the only source of light now. Professor Trelawney bends down and lifts, from under her chair, a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a glass dome. It is a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmers in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them hanging in thin air beneath the glass. I watch lazily as Professor Trelawney begins to point out the fascinating angle Mars is making to Neptune.

Soon I allow myself to zone out for you practically never have to listen in Divination to get a good grade in the class. I've been bullshitting all of my assignments, and the Professor seems to think that I'm some sort of future diviner. As I let my mind wander, I think back to the new problem of mine that I have to deal with.

Since when have I become such a hothead? I mean, I've always hated when people are unfairly punished or picked on, but I never felt the need to pummel them, or say set them on fire with my blue flames. Those blue flames are beginning to become really cool now that I think about it, though I have yet to be able to reproduce them, though I've tried.

Suddenly a piercing scream, and a loud thud tears me out of my trance like state. I would know that scream anywhere since, I've been witness to it many times in the years that I've been friends with Harry Potter. Harry has toppled out of his chair, and is now writhing on the ground in pain clutching his head in pain, like someone had clubbed him in the forehead.

I realize with a jolt that he's covering up his scar protectively. What's happening to him? Ron is down on his knees by Harry in a second, and I'm not far behind him, crouching by Harry's other side. "Harry, Harry!" Ron cries. It takes a few seconds, but Harry does open his eyes eventually.

"Phew. Hey there Boy Wonder. You had us worried there. If I didn't know better, I would say that you need to join the school drama club." I joke, trying to lessen the tension in the room.

"You all right?" Ron asks Harry after shooting me a dirty look.

"Of course he isn't!" says Professor Trelawney, looking thoroughly excited. Her great eyes loom over Harry, gazing at him. "What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry lies. He sits up. I can see Harry shaking from here.

"You were clutching your scar!" says Professor Trelawney. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

I would give anything to hit her right now, but I don't think that Professor Dumbledore would excuse me for losing my temper in that way. Besides, it doesn't feel like I'm losing control right now. This is only my irritation at the woman coming through.

Harry looks up at her. "I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," he says. "Bad headache."

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!" says Professor Trelawney. "If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever —"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," snaps Harry. He stands up. The class backs away. They all looked unnerved, but I step forward to follow him out.

"See you later," Harry mutters to Ron, and me and he picks up his bag and heads for the trapdoor, ignoring Professor Trelawney, who is wearing an expression of great frustration, as though she has just been denied a real treat. After a few minutes though the class settles back down and Ron takes up Harry's seat next to me, so that we can talk.

"What do you think that's all about?" He asks me curiously. I shake my head, while biting my lip.

"I don't know, but whatever it is it's not good. What's worse though is that Harry's keeping secrets from us again. I think that we all know what good secrets do to our group…" I say ominously. Ron sighs, and trains his gaze back on Trelawney like he was going to focus. I know that he's not though, like any of us are going to be focusing for the rest of the day now. The mystery is only growing, and we seem to be right in the thick of it, as Harry Potter's sworn guardians and protectors.

What have I gotten myself into?