Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Harry, though I'd like to, or anything else that fell out of Jo's head. Wouldn't mind owning Hermione either. Same goes for anything else you know I didn't come up with.

…and Dementor's Too!

I let out the breath I'd been holding as I saw I'd hit my target, just off the judge's platform. Mover disks were a form of apparation predicated on the theory of folded space, but like apparation you had to have a firm mental picture of where you wanted to end up. If you didn't, well, good luck figuring out where you were provided it wasn't inside something which would be really messy and a lot worse than splinching.

There were plenty of people milling around…and I felt Pettigrew getting lighter in my grip. "Not so fast, Rat-Face!" I growled as I pressed the end of my stick into him. "Toatu!" He collapsed at my feet, reverting back to his full human form.

I made sure he was unconscious. I may be a powerful sorceress, sorcerer, damnit, but I was still new to this and didn't want to kill him by accident… yet. As I straightened up, I saw two men approaching us, wearing red robes. Aurors, I remembered. "Is everything alright, Miss?" the older one inquired, looking between me and Pettigrew. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

I just scowled at the honorific. He didn't know any better. I pointed. "Yes, there is. That is Peter Pettigrew, he's an unregistered rat animagus, he needs magic suppression cuffs put on him, whatever procedures necessary to prevent him turning into a rat, and locked up in the most secure cell you have. If he escapes, I'm going to kick both your asses so hard you'll have brown rings around your necks, and you don't even want to know what I'll do to you if he dies."

The younger man was looking angry at being talked at that way. "Now see here!"

I shivered a bit as I rode right over him. "Voldemort, real name Tom Marvolo Riddle, was resurrected tonight at the old Riddle estate in Little Hangleton, and I know for certain Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters with… him." I shivered with cold again.

Shivered? In June?

Shite! I spun back towards the crowds. It, or they, had to be coming from that direction. I raised my hands made some motions… and was almost overcome by power. There were two sources, one powerful, like ocean waves crashing on shore during a hurricane, raw, untamed. The other was calm, peaceful, like a glass smooth lake.

The ley lines and the castle, it had to be. I connected with the lines, felt the flow of power as I directed it to my fingertips and placed them on my eyes. "Unseen Sight!"

What can I say? Sorcery is screwy. Some spell incantations – total gibberish. Others – just what they sound like. Go figure.

A memory surfaced in my mind… NO! Not for you! I raged, seeing the first dementor that was almost on me. As the cold intensified, I once again gestured. "Humana demonom k'tet k'tem k'tellect P'TAH!"

A sigil snapped into being, not on the ground, but around the dementor and it was no simple thirteen glyph sigil: it was three concentric rings with hundreds of glyphs in them. The inner and outermost rings were rotating in a counterclockwise direction, at two different speeds, while the center one went clockwise. It floated at waist height on the demon even as it began to spin slowly around its vertical axis.

The dementor screamed. It sounded like a combination of a high-pitched steam whistle and fingernails on a chalkboard. People cried out as they covered their ears.

There were two of them and I hadn't seen them coming. I'd seen people moving out of their path but hadn't paid them any attention, forgetting that ass Fudge had brought two of them with him for protection. And wasn't I going to have a little discussion with him about that!

If I had any say in the matter, he was going to need a new set of bodyguards.

I incanted again, hands, fingers and tongue working in coordinated effort as another, different ring appeared around it. It screamed again, thrashing about within its prison as it tried to reach and disrupt the rings, but they were out of its reach.

Another incantation, another ring. The dementor was enclosed within a slowly spinning globe of intersecting circles and as I tied it to the Ley lines the globe glowed even brighter. The thing's screams almost went supersonic it rose to such a high pitch. It was in agony, and knowing what I did about them, I didn't care.

Other screams attracted my attention and I turned to find the second dementor swooping in over the heads of the crowd, headed right for me. I raised my hands and…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A blazing silver white stag flew in from my left and slammed into the side of the flying horror, causing it to voice its own screams as it was impaled on multiple tines of the Patronus' antlers. The two struggled for several seconds, the demon trying to escape, the stag trying to maintain the impalement. The stag shook its head to help prevent a skeletal hand from grasping it, but all that happened was the dementor slid free of the antlers and took off skyward as fast as it could. The stag watched it go before returning to its creator, who, not to my surprise, was one Harry J. Potter.

Standing right beside him was Emma Watson, known to one and all in this place as Hermione J. Granger, wand in hand. I was beginning to think everyone in those movies had a corresponding doppelganger in this reality.

I sighed. Okay. I hated to admit it, but it looked like Mr. Spooky back in the Twilight Zone was either Death himself, a male version of Fate, or someonething I didn't even want to think about. I had no idea why they'd done this to me or what they wanted me to do, but at least they'd given me abilities I could defend myself with. As I did a quick search of the information that had been flooding my brain, I realized I had pretty good ways of attacking as well.

Then I had another thought: if this was the Tri-Wiz tournament, then Harry was in fourth year, which meant this was 1994.

Crap. I'd been sent back over twenty-five years into the past! I didn't want to redo those years! Windows 95 wasn't even out yet! I wouldn't know if they'd found the Oak Island treasure for decades!

On the other hand, didn't Amazon go public in the next couple of years? And a slew of others? If I got out before the Dot Bomb exploded just after the millennium, I could make a killing.

That was in the future, however. Right now, I have other things to worry about. "Thanks, Harry." I called to the boy before turning to look in another direction.

It wasn't hard to find my target; an ugly green hat like that was hard to miss. "Fudge!" I yelled out, gaining the man's attention as I started striding towards him. "You stupid, fricking, wanker! What the hell do you think you're doing bringing those damn things here tonight? With this crowd? After what happened last year? Are you trying to get people's souls sucked out? I swear to God, you're so far down the intelligence scale you make an enormous bugblatter beast look like a genius."

He drew himself up with an indignant scowl. Considering I was still several inches taller than him; he still didn't look very impressive. "I don't even know who you are, Miss, and I'm insulted by your insinuations. For your information, I had complete control of both of those dementors."

"So, you're admitting you set those creatures on me, in an attempt to have my soul sucked out?" I snarled.

Behind, and off to his side, I saw a woman with the ugliest glasses imaginable grinning widely and wringing her hands as she glanced at a floating piece of parchment with a floating quill moving rapidly over the surface. Rita Skeeter if I had to guess and she looked as delighted at Fudge's faux pas as he looked appalled at what he had just said.

"NO!" he practically shouted as he realized what he'd done. "No, they did that on their own! I didn't tell them to attack you." He was holding his hat in front of him as if to shield himself from me. He suddenly seemed to have a thought as his courage, what little he had, returned. "What are you doing to that one, though?" he asked, pointing at the glowing construct with the dementor at its center, surrounded by a crowd of people goggling at it. "That's government property!"

"That thing belongs to the government?" I asked.

"Yes!" he replied with a rapid nodding of his head.

"The government controls it?"

"Yes, it does!"

"You're the head of the government?" He couldn't really be that stupid, could he?

"Yes, I most certainly am." he answered, puffing himself up. Maybe he could be.

"So, you control them." Let's see…

"Yes, I most certainly do!"

"So, you did set them to attack me." Wait for it…

"Yes, I did!" Yep, he was.

His look was triumphant for all the three seconds it took his brain to catch up with what his mouth was spouting. Rita had moved several steps closer, not even needing a Quick Quotes Quill to get a story out of this.

His triumphant look turned to one of horror as he suddenly realized what he'd said. "NO! I didn't mean that!" he cried out in denial.

"Do you need some help, Cornelius?"

The interrupting voice came from a woman who stepped up to them. In red auror robes, with red hair graying at the temples and with a monocle, this could only be…

"Amelia! Arrest her!"

Madame Bones followed the idiot's finger to where it was pointing at me, gave me a quick, appraising glance through her monocle how does anyone keep one of those things stuck to their face, then turned back to him. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Cornelius, but I can't arrest someone just because they upset you."

I could tell ole Corny was fuming at her reply even as he stabbed his finger in another direction. "Then arrest her for that!"

Once again following his pointing finger, the woman seemed to notice the encircled dementor for the first time. It was no longer moving, merely floating within the slowly rotating sphere, and was notably smaller, its extremities almost gone. "Whatever is happening to the thing?" she murmured.

"Yes, please! What's happening with that construct?"

The woman approaching us in an excited hurry was headed directly for me. Behind her, at a more sedate pace, came the whiskered wanker. I had never really liked Dumbledore because even in the fics where he was truly of the light and not trying to screw Harry over, far too many people had died because of his "greater good" and his overwhelming need to hoard all information to himself. Don't even get me started on his forgiving people thing.

His thinking that only he could understand the big picture and if he didn't know it, it didn't exist to be known endangered everyone around him. His belief from the day Harry's parents died that Harry was going to die as well so there was no need to train him or tell him anything about what was going to happen at the least was criminally negligent. The fact he never consulted anyone about anything underscored his sense of infallibility.

The horcruxes as an example. He found that Harry had a soul piece in his scar, decided that he didn't know how to remove it without killing Harry, and if he didn't know how, nobody else would either, so Harry would have to die.

But was Harry even a horcrux? His soul piece didn't act anything like the others. The diary began trying to take over Ginny the moment she started writing in it. So did the locket. Harry had that thing in his head for over fifteen years and all it ever did was give him headaches when Riddle was around and opened a link to Riddle's mind. Not once did it ever attempt to possess him. Not very horcrux like if you ask me but did that matter to Dumbledore? Nope. Harry had a piece of Riddle's soul in his head, so he had to die, so says the Great and Almighty Dumbledore.

After the first book his "I'm a wise old man and you're just a kid and don't need to know anything so stop asking" attitude put me off more and more until I decided even truly Light Dumbledore had to be so mental to believe that stuff about himself that there was no way I was going to trust him.

As I looked at him, I decided I was going to have to do something about those twinkly eyes as well.

I looked at the excited smaller woman. "Professor Babbling, I presume?"

"Yes! I must tell you I have never seen such an exquisite array in all my life. The complexity is wondrous! A self-sustaining runic array of that magnitude is unheard of and floating in the air! It's…it's…it's glorious!"

"A sigil." I told her.

She gave me a confused look. "Pardon?"

"It's a sigil." I explained. "In sorcery it's called a sigil made up of glyphs."

She seemed confused by that as well. "Sorcery? But…" she turned back to the glowing sigil. "…what's it doing to the dementor?"

"It's destabilizing the bonds holding matter together at the molecular level, or even the atomic, I think." Huh? Where the hell did that come from?

I heard a feminine gasp behind me even as the Professor gave me a blank expression. "It's disintegrating it." I explained helpfully.

Corny jumped on that in a heartbeat. "There! Do you see, Amelia? She's destroying government property! Arrest her!"

She looked back at him. "Cornelius, if she's got a way to destroy dementors, I may see about giving her a medal."

"The other one he had flew away when Mr. Potter's Patronus gored it." I said helpfully, smiling.

She turned angrily to the Minister. "Is that true Cornelius? Is there a loose dementor floating around somewhere?"

His answer was interrupted by my two red robed playmates from earlier as they entered our little group and dropped a shackled, cuffed, bound, and unconscious Peter Pettigrew on the ground at Bones' feet. "What's this, Jenkins?" she demanded.

"That's Peter Pettigrew, Ma'am."

Her eyes widened enough that her monocle fell free. She caught it without even looking at it. "Are you certain?" she asked as she moved to get a better look at the man on the ground.

The auror nodded. "Positive, Ma'am. I'd know the little rat-faced bastard anywhere. I was Slytherin, two years ahead of him and his friends. They made our lives miserable for five years. Yeah, that's Pettigrew." He pointed at me. "She showed up with him a little while ago."

"No! That can't be Peter Pettigrew!" Fudge almost shouted, eyes wide as he looked down at the man. "He's dead!"

"Not hardly." I spoke up. "He was the secret keeper for the Potters. That's why Sirius Black was chasing him, because he betrayed the Potters to Voldemort…"

What do you know? People really did shudder and cry out at his name.

"When Black caught up with him, he cut off his finger, blew up the gas main, turned into his animagus form of a rat and vanished into the sewers." I looked at her. "Kind of makes you think that kiss on sight order for Black needs to be rescinded, doesn't it? And maybe get him the trial he never had."

Her eyes snapped from mine, to Fudge, then to a suspiciously quiet Dumbledore. "How do you know he never had a trial?"

I shrugged. "Look up the paperwork. Bagnold and Crouch railroaded him." I looked at Dumbledore. "Certain others may have turned a blind eye or even signed off on it." The old man's brow furrowed at my statement.

"Where did you find Pettigrew?"

"The Little Hangleton Cemetery where Voldemort was resurrected tonight."

"No!" Fudge practically shouted angrily. "He's not back! You and Potter are making things up. There's no way the Dark Lord can be back."

I turned and scowled at him. "Are you calling me a liar?" He shrank away as I snarled at him, before turning back to Bones. "He used Harry Potter in a dark ritual to get himself a body then fought him in a duel before I showed up and helped Harry get away. Pettigrew is his marked man…"

Bones looked at Jenkins, who nodded in reply.

"…which reminds me. You better get that silver hand off him any way you can before you try to question him under veritaserum because if you don't it'll kill him. Voldemort…"

"He's dead!" Fudge yelled. "He's not back!"

I ignored him. "Voldemort, real name Tom Marvolo Riddle, gave it to him and you can bet he knows that Pettigrew will say anything to stay out of Azkaban. He'd have taken precautions to prevent that."

"He's dead, I tell you! Dead!"

"How do you know all these things, Miss…?" Dumbledore finally made his voice heard.

I turned at a commotion behind me. "That's my secret, old man." I told him over my shoulder. I probably shouldn't provoke him at such an early time but hey, I really don't like the man. "But if you think the resurrections of two people is something, watch this."

I walked away from the group towards Harry, the source of the commotion. He was having an argument with… "Professor!" I called. "Professor Moody!"

The imposter stopped his quarrel with Harry to look at me, and I knew that damned eye of his was looking right through me and my clothes, the pervert. "Who are you, woman, and what do ya want?"

"I helped Harry escape from the Dark Lord," I told him to hold his attention, "and I wanted to get your thoughts about the man and what he's like now."

Alastor Moody was paranoid. Everybody knew that. He never would have let a complete stranger walk right up to him, even if he could see my hands were empty and he knew I didn't have a wand.

But this wasn't Alastor Moody and if the book was truthful, then he was desperate to get any information he could about the resurrected Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, and that desperation overrode the paranoia he was faking, and he did let me walk right up to him…whereupon I slammed my right knee right up between his legs.

An excited babble broke out behind me as he was lifted off his feet and came back down, keening in agony and cradling the jewels even as he tried to retch. I grabbed his head and shoved it down so his face could meet my once again rising knee. With a wet crunch as his nose, what was left of it, was flattened across his face, I stripped his eye off as the first ropes wrapped around me. His upper body went up and back before crashing to the ground, even as I fell to my side, yelling at Harry. "Harry! Summon his wand and Polyjuice!"

Hermione, however, was quicker on the uptake and the two items soared into her hands just as the two aurors got to me. I smiled up at Jenkins as he stood over me pointing his wand at me. "Good work, Jenkins." I told him. "You had me down in just seconds. The real Moody would probably say you could have done better, but under the circumstances, I'd go with you did the best you could."

"Well, when he gets up," he snarled, "he's going to kick…"

"It is Polyjuice!" a female voice interrupted him.

Thank God for Hermione as Madam Bones stepped into view with her hand outstretched. "Let me see that, young lady."

I watched as Hermione handed the flask over and Madam Bones took a sniff, before jerking her head back. "Damn it!" she exclaimed, looking down at me. "You seem to know a lot of what's going on. Do you know who that is?" she pointed at Moody.

"That would be 'dead man back from the grave number three' tonight, one Barty Crouch Jr..." I replied.

Of course, Fudge immediately denied it. "Impossible! Barty's son died years ago!"

I didn't even try to twist my head around to look at him. "So did Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort. Guess what? They'rrrrre baaaaack!" I looked up at Bones. "If that damn dementor comes back, keep it away from Corny or the other two. He's liable to have it kiss both of them. And you might want to send someone to Moody's quarters and see about getting him out of his trunk. Just be careful, he's probably in a piss poor mood."

She glared across the space between the two of them. "That's not going to happen, is it Cornelius?" I couldn't see him from where I was laying, but I heard him shuffling back away from her. She smirked before saying, "Tompkins, why don't you escort the Minister home? Then get back to base, get Proudfoot to get a team and head to the Little Hangleton cemetery and check it out. Jenkins, secure Moody until we see if Polyjuice is being used. As for you," she looked down at me, "if I let you up, will you behave?"

Dumbledore chose that moment to speak up again. "Amelia, perhaps we shouldn't be so hasty about freeing her. She does seem to know an awful lot of things about what's going on tonight. She appears to be involved in everything going on."

So, it's going to be like that, eh? You wanker. I thought. Typical. But I did have to admit, English, as spoken in England, did have some really neat insults I could say in front of my mom and not get slapped for bad language because she wouldn't know what they meant.

Right now, however, I had to show him he really didn't want to piss me off. I began a tune and then, to the melody of the Mickey Mouse Club, began to sing.

"What is it about Voldemort,

That worries you and me.

H–O-R-C…"

I smirked up at him from where I lay on the ground as he cut me off. "On second thought, Amelia, perhaps we should let her up and retire to castle where we can talk in comfort."

From the way her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, I could tell she wasn't buying that crap at all. She gave me a speculative look, before dispelling the ropes. She didn't know what had happened between the two of us, but she had gotten her way, so she wasn't going to argue.

Harry gave me a hand up, for which I thanked him, nodded at Hermione and looked around. Most of the crowd was gone, the triple-sigil was gone, which meant the dementor was as well, and a very large person I could only assume was Hagrid was tearing out parts of the hedgerows by the roots and throwing them in a neat pile.

I turned towards Hogwarts and decided it was a good night to mess with some heads.

A/N: So ends another chapter of this literary masterpiece. You may bow to my magnificence as the author, and I hope you're enjoying it you'd better be as much as I enjoyed writing it. In that vein I would like to answer a few questions and/or comments made in some of the reviews I have received on it what are the rest of you doing, huh?

Marlastiano: A smiley face and a word? Such an explosion of enthusiasm! Thank you! It warms my heart to see how much you love my work. More than my sister's, I hope.

Guest: No, I did not so no you can't.

Katmom: Glad you think so. Wait till you see what happens later.

Cam1812: If you thought that was fun, wait till she meets Dumbles. Sis says good things about you.

THRichardson: Thank you. Yes. No. That would be telling. You've got that right!

Handers: It's sorcery, not magic. Much better.