The Potter Twins and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 24: Barty Crouch Junior, I presume?

Harry and Michael felt themselves slam flat into the ground; their faces were pressed into grass; the smell of it filled their nostrils.

They had closed their eyes while the Portkey transported them, and they kept them closed now. They did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of them; their heads were swimming so badly they felt as though the ground beneath them were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold themselves steady, they tightened their hold on the two things they were still clutching: the smooth, cold handles of the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's body. They felt as though they would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of their brains if they let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept them on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting…. Waiting for someone to do something…. Something to happen…. And all the while, their scars burned dully on their forehead and cheek respectively.

Slowly, sound began to enter their minds. The sounds of cheering for their return!

Then a pair of hands seized the boys roughly and turned them over.

"Harry! Michael!"

They both opened their eyes.

They were looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over them both. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer as the cheering began to slowly die down; the twins felt the ground beneath their heads reverberating with their footsteps.

They had come back to the edge of the maze. They could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

They both let go of the cup, but they clutched Cedric to them even more tightly. Michael raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

Michael, "he's back. He's back. Voldemort's back."

"What's going on? What happened?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over the twins; it looked white, appalled.

Fudge, "my God…. Diggory! Dumbledore; he's dead!"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them, and then others shouted it, screeched it, into the night. "He's dead!"

"He's dead!"

"Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

"Harry, Michael, let go of them", they heard Fudge's voice say, and they felt fingers trying to pry them from Cedric's limp body, but Harry and Michael wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Harry, Michael, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted us to bring him back", Harry muttered, it seemed important to explain this, "he wanted us to bring him back to his parents…."

"That's right, Harry, Michael…. Just let go now….", Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry and Michael from the ground and set them on their feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. His injured leg would no longer support his weight.

The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer.

"What's happened?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Diggory's dead!"

"They'll need to go to the hospital wing", Fudge was saying loudly, "they're ill, they're injured! Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands…."

Moody, "I'll take Harry and Michael, Dumbledore, I'll take them-"

Dumbeldore, "no, I would prefer-"

Moody, "Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running…. He's coming over….Don't you think you should tell him, before he sees?"

Dumbledore, "Harry, Michael, stay here-"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically. The scene flickered oddly before Michael and Harry's eyes.

Moody, "it's all right, boy's, I've got you…. Come on…. Hospital wing…."

"Dumbledore said stay", said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

Michael said, "we NEED to stay", even as his scar kept throbbing in pain.

Moody, "you need to lie down…. Come on now…."

Moody started half pulling, half carrying the twins through the frightened crowd. Harry and Michael heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as Moody pushed a path through them, taking them back to the castle.

Before they left, they heard something horrible….

"Let me through! LET ME THROUGH! THAT'S MY SON!"

People dispersed as Amos and his wife ran over to the pale lifeless body of Cedric.

Michael spotted Cho, stuck as still as a statue, as if she didn't believe what she saw. He then spotted Fleur standing with Bill, crying into his shoulder at the death of her fellow champion. He even saw Krum, looking dazed, confused and horrified all at the same time.

They heard Amos continuing to cry out, "that's my boy! That's my boooooy! No…. No! Nooooo!"

His anguished screams echoed across the entire area.

Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, Harry and Michael heard nothing but Moody's heavy breathing as he helped them walk.

Moody, "what happened, Harry? Michael?"

"Cup was a Portkey", said Harry as they crossed the entrance hall.

Michael, "it took me, Harry and Cedric to a graveyard…. And Voldemort was there…. Lord Voldemort…."

Moody, "the Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"

Harry, "killed Cedric…. They killed Cedric…."

Moody, "and then?"

Harry, "made a potion…. Got his body back…."

Moody, "the Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

Michael, "and the Death Eaters came…. And then we dueled…."

Moody, "you two dueled with the Dark Lord?"

Harry, "got away…. Our wands…. Did something funny…. We saw our mum and dad…. They came out of his wand…."

Moody, "in here, boys…. In here, and sit down…. You'll be alright now…. Drink this…."

Harry and Michael heard a key scrape in a lock and felt a cup being pushed into each of their hands.

Moody, "drink it…. You'll feel better…. Come on, now, boys, I need to know exactly what happened…."

Moody helped tip the stuff down their throats; they coughed, a peppery taste burning their throats. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself…. He looked as white as Fudge had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon the twins.

Moody, "Voldemort's back? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

Michael, "he took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and us."

His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field. Harry could as well.

Moody, "what did the Dark Lord take from you?"

"Blood", said Harry, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail's dagger had torn it. Michael did the same with his arm.

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss, "and the Death Eaters? They returned?"

Harry, "yes."

Michael, "loads of them…. We even recognised one or two by name…."

Moody, "how did he treat them? Did he forgive them?"

But Harry and Michael suddenly remembered. They should have told Dumbledore, they should have said it straightaway!

Harry, "there's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here , they put our names in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure we got through to the end!"

Michael, "we gotta tell Dumbeldore!"

Harry and Michael tried to get up, but Moody pushed them back down.

Moody, "I know who the Death Eater is."

Michael, "Karkaroff? Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up? Did he tell Krum to attack Cedric?"

Moody, "Karkaroff? Hehe. Karkaroff fled yonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them…. But I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

Harry, "Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But…. He didn't put our names in the goblet?"

Moody, "no. No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

Harry and Michael heard, but didn't believe.

Harry, "no, you didn't. You didn't do that…. You can't have done…."

"I assure you I did", said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and the twins knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it at them.

Moody, "he forgave them, then? The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

Michael, "what?"

This was a bad joke, it had to be.

Moody, "I asked you. Whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."

Michael, "you fired…. What are you talking about….?"

Moody, "I told you…. I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them….", Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile, "tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful…. Prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all…. You two."

Harry, "you didn't…. You- it- it can't be you…."

Moody, "who put your names in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragons? I did."

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon the twins. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

Moody, "it hasn't been easy, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start, then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task…. That was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter's. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint…."

Michael, "you didn't. I fell into some water and learned the clue."

Harry, "and Cedric gave me the clue-"

Moody, "who told Cedric to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you. Decent people are so easy to manipulate, Potter's. I was sure Cedric would want to repay you for telling him about the dragons, and so he did. But even then, Potter's, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time…. All those hours in the library. Didn't you realize that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along? I planted it there early on, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember?

Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not…. You did not…. You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all. At least Michael found that page in that book about that aquatus charm. So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether the Potter's would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you…."

Moody's wand was still pointing directly at Michael and Harry's hearts. Over their shoulders, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

Moody, "you were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. And your brother jumped back in! But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course. I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Diggory and leave your path to the cup clear."

Michael, "so that's why Krum attacked us, even after how friendly he had gotten! You bewitched him!"

Moody gave an insane cackle.

Michael and Harry simply stared at Moody. He just didn't see how this could be…. Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror…. The one who had caught so many Death Eaters…. It made no sense …. No sense at all….

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, and had become more distinct. The twins could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Michael and Harry.

Moody, "the Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you, Potter's, and he so wanted to. Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him, the thing he needed above all to regenerate, and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter…. Closer than a son…."

Michael got a strange recollection when he heard that last part.

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon Harry and Michael. The door was barred, and the twins knew they would never reach their own wands in time….

"The Dark Lord and I", said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over them, leering down at the twins, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers…. Very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure…. The very great pleasure…. Of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

Harry, "you're mad. You're mad!"

Michael, "more like bloody insane!"

Moody, "mad, am I? Crazy!? We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry and Michael Potter, you did not conquer him, and now, I will conquer you!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his own hand into his robes and Michael was prepared to fire every kind of fire spell he could think of, when suddenly….

"Stupefy!"

There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart. Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor. Harry and Michael, still staring at the place where Moody's face had been, saw Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall looking back at them out of the Foe-Glass. They looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.

At that moment, the twins fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than either twin could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles.

There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.

He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody's unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room. McGonagall went straight to Michael and Harry.

McGonagall, "come along…. Come along…. Hospital wing…."

"No", said Dumbledore sharply.

McGonagall, "Dumbledore, they ought to, look at them, they've been through enough tonight-"

Dumbledore, "they will stay, Minerva, because they need to understand. Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal they have suffered tonight, and why."

Harry, "Moody."

Michael, "how can it have been Moody?"

Dumbledore, "this is not Alastor Moody. You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you two from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you both, I knew, and I followed."

Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to McGonagall and Snape.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here. And if you can, please fetch Harry and Michael's pets, I think they need their comfort right now."

If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, and began unlocking and opening the various trunks within.

Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and the twins let out cries of amazement.

They were looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. The twins stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.

Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.

Dumbledore, "stunned…. Controlled by the Imperius Curse, very weak. Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive.

Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak. He's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

Dumbledore, "Polyjuice Potion. You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair…. The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done…. On the hour…. Every hour…. We shall see."

Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. The twins stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence….

Then, before their very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink.

The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

They saw a man lying before him, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. They knew who he was. They had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr. Crouch that he was innocent…. But he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older….

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them with Fleet, Hedwig and Nosey riding atop Fang.

Michael growled, "Barty Crouch Junior, I presume?"

He went over and picked up Nosey and Fleet as Hedwig flew onto Harry's shoulder.

"Good heavens," said McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"

She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.

"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

Dumbledore, "he is simply Stunned, Winky. Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Rennervate."

Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

Dumbledore, "can you hear me?"

The man's eyelids flickered.

"Yes", he muttered.

Dumbledore, "I would like you to tell us how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

He told the story about how his mother and he have switched places using polyjuice potion. How she had convinced his father to secretly free him. It was easy to sneak him out. One healthy and one dying person entered the prison. One healthy and one dying person left the prison. Crouch had spent years hiding from the public, using invisibility cloaks and such, being out under the Imperius curse, and being tended to by Winky for all this time.

Even as Winky tried to get him to stop, Crouch continued. How Bertha Jorkins had found out about him, and how his father had used a memory charm that permanently damaged her memory. How he eventually broke free at the World Cup, with Winky being in the top box with him as he was invisible, and eventually, how they had kidnapped and tortured Bertha Jorkins for information on the tournament, how they had ultimately killed her, and how they had captured Moody shortly before the school year began, in order to enact the plan Voldemort had thought up. It had been quite a struggle, but they had gotten Moody, as the evidence showed. How they eventually used the Imperius curse on his father and forced him to write those letters until he had managed to escape in order to tell Dumbledore everything. But Crouch had been able to rectify this. He had used the Marauders Map to track down his father. He had been the one to stun Krum and kill his father. His father's body was still in the forest, covered by an invisibility cloak! Then when Dumbledore had ordered him to search for his father, he transfigured him into a home and buried him…. Right in front of Hagrid's cabin!

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "and tonight…."

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner", whispered Barty Crouch, "turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side!

Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Michael upstairs?"

McGonagall, "of course."

She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick.

However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

"Severus", Dumbledore turned to Snape, "please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

Dumbledore, "Harry? Michael?"

Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure. He also realized that he was shaking. Michael was shaking too, even as he helped Harry stand steady. Dumbledore gripped Harry's other arm and he and Michael helped him out into the dark corridor.

Dumbledore, "I want you both to come up to my office first. Sirius is waiting for us there."

The twins nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon them, but they did not care; they were even glad of it.

They didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since they had first touched the Triwizard Cup. They didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across their minds. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Cedric…. Dead…. Cedric, asking to be returned to his parents….

"Professor", Harry mumbled, "where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

Dumbledore, "they are with Professor Sprout. She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best. Cho Chang is there as well, given how close she was to him…."

They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he, Michael and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room.

"Harry, Michael, are you all right? I knew it- I knew something like this- what happened?"

His hands shook as he helped Harry into a chair in front of the desk. Michael sat next to his brother.

Sirius, "what happened?"

Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. The twins only half listened.

They felt so tired after tonight.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Michael's knee.

"'Lo, Fawkes", Michael said quietly.

He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

Fleet and Nosey sat on Michael's other knee as Hedwig flew over to Fawkes' perch.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite the twins, behind his desk. He was looking at them, who avoided his eyes.

Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make them relive everything.

Dumbledore, "I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze."

Sirius, "we can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore? Let them sleep. Let them rest."

The twins felt a rush of gratitude toward Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius's words. He leaned forward toward the twins.

Very unwillingly, the twins raised their heads and looked into those blue eyes.

Dumbledore, "if I thought I could help you, by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and both brothers felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down their throats into their stomachs, warming them, and strengthening them.

They each took a deep breath and began to tell them. As they spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before their eyes.

The sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort.

The Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them.

Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

Sirius nearly interrupted once or twice, but Dumbeldore stopped him from doing so.

It was even a relief; they felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from them. It was costing them every bit of determination they had to keep talking, yet they sensed that once they had finished, they would feel better.

They told them of what Wormtail did, and Dumbeldore had made sure to see the cuts they had gotten from the daggers.

They told the old wizard about what Voldemort had said about their protective blood.

For a fleeting instant, they thought they saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second, they were sure they had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as they had ever seen him.

"Very well", he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all they could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. They talked about the duel, and when they reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, they couldn't say anything else. They tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into their minds.

Cedric.

The old man.

Bertha Jorkins.

Their parents.

They were glad when Sirius broke the silence.

Sirius, "the wands connected? Why?"

Dumbledore, "Priori Incantatem."

Sirius, "the Reverse Spell effect?"

Dumbledore, "exactly. Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact", he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Michael's knee.

Harry, "my wand's feather came from Fawkes?"

Michael, "I knew there was a reason we liked him."

Dumbledore, "yes. Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

Sirius, "so what happens when a wand meets its brother?"

Dumbledore, "they will not work properly against each other. If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle…. A very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed, in reverse. The most recent first…. And then those which preceded it…. And since Michael was in the duel, it affected his wand as well, even if it's not connected to theirs. Which means that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."

Sirius, "Diggory came back to life?"

Dumbledore, "no spell can reawaken the dead. All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand…. Am I correct, boys?"

Harry, "he spoke to us."

Michael, "the…. The ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

Dumbledore, "an echo which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared…. Less recent victims of Voldemort's wand…."

Harry, "an old man."

Michael, "Bertha Jorkins. And…."

Dumbledore, "your parents?"

Harry and Michael, "yes."

Dumbledore, "the last murders the wand performed, in reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, these echoes, these shadows…. What did they do?"

The twins described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told them what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request. At this point, the twins found they could not continue. They looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands.

Michael suddenly became aware that Fawkes had left his knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. His leg was repaired.

Dumbledore, "I will say it again. You two have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourselves equal to it, and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace…. Sirius, would you like to stay with them?"

Sirius nodded and stood up. He transformed back into the great black dog and walked with Harry, Michael and Dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing. Hedwig flew behind them with Fleet and Nosey running with Sirius.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door, the twins saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Hermione, and even Fleur grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry and Michael were and what had happened to them. All of them whipped around as Harry, Michael, Dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.

"Harry! Michael!"

She started to hurry toward them, but Dumbledore moved between them.

"Molly", he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry and Michael have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. They have just had to relive it for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If they would like you all to stay with them, you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very pale. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "did you hear? They need quiet!"

"Headmaster", said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, "may I ask what…?"

Dumbledore, "this dog, owl, Niffler and ferret will be remaining with Harry and Michael for a while. I assure you, they are all extremely well trained. Harry, Michael, I will wait while you get into bed."

Harry and Michael felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question them. It wasn't as though they didn't want them there; but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than they could stand.

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry, Michael", said Dumbledore, "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school."

He left as Madam Pomfrey led Harry and Michael to two nearby beds. They caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.

Harry, "is he okay?"

"He'll be fine", said Madam Pomfrey, giving each boy some pajamas and pulling screens around them.

They took off their robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. Ron, Hermione, Fleur, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, Nosey, Hedwig, Fleet and the black dog came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of them. Ron and Hermione were looking at them almost cautiously, as though scared of them.

Harry, "we're alright."

Michael, "just really tired."

Michael turned himself into an Arctic fox, wanting to simply curl up in the blankets.

Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed their bed covers unnecessarily.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and two goblets.

"You'll need to drink all of this", she said, "it's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Harry and Michael each took the goblet one at a time and drank a few mouthfuls. Well, Michael licked up the potion. They felt themselves becoming drowsy at once. Everything around them became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at them in a friendly way through the screen around their beds; their bodies felt as though they were sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before they could finish the potions, before they could say any more words, their exhaustion had carried them off to sleep….

….

Reviews:

K. deathnote.5: indeed.

Guest: maybe someday.

Canadude2029: indeed. It just keeps getting more and more intense.

….

RIP Michael Gambon. Farwell, Professor Dumbledore...