Chapter 8: Mad-Eye Moody

The pair makes it back to Hogsmeade to be greeted by a familiar face with an unfamiliar past.

A puff of smoke and ash choked Cedric as he stepped out of the fireplace. The room was dark, and a warm breeze was blowing through the open window to the right. Their arrival must have been quite loud, as suddenly the inn seemed alive with the protestations of about a dozen rudely-awakened guests. There was a soft stirring outside the door, a quiet patter of footsteps, then the inn was silent again.

Cedric heaved the unconscious Viktor beside him towards the door. His hand was barely on the knob when the door burst open.

"Come here, boys. We need to get back to the castle immediately." Professor Mad-Eye Moody stank of alcohol and sweat. In the darkness of the corridor, Cedric could barely make out the rough features of his face. Having a professor greet them should have given him relief, but the mechanical whir of the glass eye as it spun wildly in its socket did nothing but unsettle him.

"Professor? How did you know-"

"Did you arrive with anyone else?" Mad-Eye's tone was gruff. He was so huge that he had to stoop under the frame to get into the room.

"It's just us, Professor," replied Cedric, swallowing a lump that was beginning to form in his throat. The glass eye was quiet now, settling its gaze on Cedric and the unconscious man beside him.

"Good."

Good?

"Expelliarmus!" Two wands came flipping through the air and landed with a wooden clunk in Mad-Eye's outstretched palm. Cedric's mouth dropped in confusion, only to be forced shut as Moody uttered "Silencio." He felt his throat constrict, the only sounds escaping him reduced to dry gasps and squeaks.

His breath came out of him in a silent huff as a heavy fist collided to his stomach. Moody grabbed a handful of Viktor's hair and threw him carelessly to the other side of the room. He rounded on him next where he knelt bent over the pain in his gut. What…?

"You must have a lot of questions running through your mind right now, don't you, boy?" A resounding slap caught Cedric by the cheek, and he fell bodily beside the bed. "Do you even know who I am, boy?" Mad-Eye's lips curled in a vicious snarl. "Who I really am?" He curled his fingers around Cedric's pale neck and squeezed. Cedric reached up to try and loosen the iron-like grip, but his fingers were too feeble and his arms too weak. Stars were already dancing in his eyes when suddenly the hand released and he fell wheezing for air.

"I am his most loyal servant, one of the few who elected to suffer in Azkaban and in the hands of his enemies, rather than admit defeat and be a turncoat. Oh, I fought my own family for the Dark Lord," snarled Mad-Eye, "killed my father, even. His name brought shame to the Dark Lord's legacy. But I'll raise it back to purity!"

A heavy boot crashed against Cedric's face and he heard a bone snap. Blood ran in a stream from his nose and his mouth. The room spun as he reached out to look for support. His hands clutched the bed frame for a while, before hastily being crushed under a shoe.

"For the entire year, I hated this body. Who would have thought I will finally find a fitting purpose for it?" Mad-Eye grabbed Cedric by the hair. "It was made for this," he said, as another slap cut across Cedric's face. He let go and Cedric fell in a heap of pain on the wooden floor.

He tried to scream, knowing that a dozen warm bodies lay sleeping just outside this room. But there was no sound that escaped his lips, save for the gurgle of blood as he sputtered and gasped for air.

The lumbering man strode off to the other side of the room and picked up his wand from the cabinet beside the door, while Cedric listened in silence at his disjointed tirade.

"Must I do everything?" He snarled at no one in particular. "For the entire year I planned. Waited. Stuck in this gruesome form. And I delivered Potter to him, didn't I? Didn't I?" His whispers were filled with anguish. Spittle spewed from his mouth. "I should have been the one to see him come alive again. But instead, it was them. The pathetic, cowardly lot of them!" His shoulders began to shake in fury. The glass eye spun, shrill and grating.

"And they made me stay to deal with their incompetence! It's not just the boy they let escape, but both of you as well." His wand sliced through the air, pointed at them both.

Even in the face of danger, utterly defenceless and bleeding, Cedric breathed a sigh of relief. Harry is alive. He has warned every one of You-Know-Who's return. But something tugged at the back of his mind. Something was not quite right. Why does this impostor need to stay?

The man laughed, low and raspy and malevolent. He seemed to have heard Cedric's unspoken question. "The boy sleeps, so that is fortunate. My lord's return remains a secret to his enemies."

He walked to where Cedric lie. The tip of his wand sank painfully on Cedric's forehead. "And it will remain that way.

"Crucio."

Red-hot iron slipped between his skin and his flesh. His head seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces, only to reform then break again. And again. And again. Cedric wasn't sure how long it lasted. All he could remember was the popping of his bones as his body spasmed with the pain that coursed through him, the rattling of his body against the wooden floor as he flailed in silent agony. His teeth snapped. His fingers curled. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was the most frightful sleep he has ever had.