Severus Snape's POV
I spent a sleepless night trying to figure out if Moody had distracted me on purpose so that someone could steal from my stores. Whatever his reason for questioning me, he'd put me in a foul mood indeed, and the mood carried through the night with me and into the next day.
Imagine my utter indignation when Potter, of all people, clearly solved his Second Task by the use of gillyweed. Not only that, but the fool was rewarded points for said "moral fiber." I scoffed loudly enough that Professor Sprout offered me a Pepper Cough Candy.
As soon as the judges finished giving their scores, I raced back up to my Potions office and threw open my cabinet for underwater plants. Sure enough, out of three bottles, one bottle labeled "gillyweed" was missing. I ground my teeth.
So Potter gets called a hero for stealing from my personal stores, does he?
The next morning, the Daily Prophet once again reported Harry's "incredible" and "glorious" success. Not only did they completely ignore Diggory's first-place performance, but Potter's use of gillyweed was acclaimed as "a stroke of brilliance" throughout the news article. Fuming, I tossed it aside. I looked at my clock. Ten minutes until Potions for the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Well, Mr. Potter, let's see how well you can handle your comeuppance for stealing from my stores.
During class, sweeping through the different tables to make sure no explosions or anything unruly would occur, I came across Potter.
"Potter," I said quietly. The insolent boy kept his head down, not answering me. His messy hair stuck up in the back, just like his father's had. My lip curled.
"Congratulations on your performance at the Black Lake. It was… inspiring. Gillyweed, am I correct?"
Potter nodded, though he still did not lift his head.
"Now," I said, "you might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you, but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."
The boy pounded away at his scarab beetles, attempting not to respond to me. I saw, however, the way his knuckles turned white as he clutched the pestle quite tightly.
"So I give you fair warning, Potter," I said, and my voice grew both softer and more menacing, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"
Suddenly, the boy burst out angrily, forgetting his powdered beetles, "I haven't been anywhere near your office!"
"Don't lie to me!" I hissed furiously. "Boomslang skin? Gillyweed? Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them!"
Potter glared up at me, not blinking or wavering whatsoever in his impudent eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about -"
"You were out of bed the night my office was broken into!" I snapped at him, not taking any more of his obvious lying. "Now, Mad-Eye might have joined your fan club, not to mention your desperate cheerleader Kingsley, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more nighttime stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"
"Right," Potter said cheekily, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."
My eyes flashed in anger. But then, rather than shout at the boy in front of the class, my eyes fell down to powdered beetles, still freshly ground and unused. "You've forgotten to add the beetles, Potter," I said silkily. "This Potion is now useless. Zero marks for the day, and ten points from Gryffindor."
I smirked as I looked down at his furious face and repeated, "Congratulations on your performance, Potter."
Raylynx's POV
After my Ancient Runes classes the next day, I went back down to fetch Quincy before returning to my office to grade papers.
When I came back up, I found Harry standing in front of my classroom door.
"Harry?" I called.
Harry turned around. "Professor Kingsley!"
Before I could say anything, he leapt forward and barreling into me, he wrapped his arms around me a bit clumsily.
"Oof!"
Inside my front pocket, Quincy was suddenly squeezed. His head came out of my pocket, and his eyes were bulging. A startled, tight squeak came out of his mouth, alerting Harry to his presence.
"Oops!" Harry quickly let go of me. "Sorry."
I laughed lightly. I reached into my pocket and pulled Quincy out. Walking into my office, I set Quincy down onto the tabletop.
He wobbled around dizzily before finally finding his feet again. He sat down on his rump and stared at Harry, wondering, Why'd you have to squeeze me so hard? Almost shocked the flames outta me.
I turned around and said, "Well, Harry. Are you all right? Grindylows and merpeople didn't get you?"
Harry shook his head. "They're nicer than dragons," he quipped, and gave me a smile.
Behind me, Quincy let out an unimpressed snort, disagreeing with Harry. Nothing's nicer than a dragon, he thought in his little flaming head.
"Where did you go once you got out of the water?" Harry asked me. "I didn't see you, but there was such a crowd of people, I figured I just lost you."
"Oh." I paused. He's got a quicker eye than I thought…
"You're right," I said finally, "I just got lost in the crowd. I'm sorry if I worried you."
Harry shrugged. "It's not that you worried me, but… It's just, you know, with all the disappearances these days…" Harry's voice trailed off for a moment before he continued, "Crouch didn't show up again. Percy was there in his place."
My eyes narrowed when I heard this information. Crouch shows up in Snape's office at one in the morning, but isn't coming in to work or coming to judge the TriWizard Tournament? What on earth is he up to?
"Anyways," Harry said, shaking his head a little before looking up at me again, "will you tell Crookshanks thanks when you see her? I couldn't have done it without her. Any of it."
I smiled. "Of course I will."
Harry nodded and grinned. "Thanks, Professor."
He started to turn away when I called out, "Wait, Harry. Come here."
Harry turned back. "Yeah?"
I hesitated, thinking of how I wanted to phrase what I wanted to say. Finally, I walked over to him and taking his hands in my own, I told him quietly but seriously, "Harry, I don't know why you didn't tell me you were struggling with your egg" – Harry blanched, but I kept speaking – "but you shouldn't hide such things from me again. Harry, I'm not someone you have to impress. I already know how clever you are, and how brave you are. I'm here to help you, but I can't do that unless you're honest with me, all right?"
Harry's eyes were slightly watery, but he simply nodded in response.
"All right," I said, letting go of his hands. "Off you go. Go get some dinner, and some rest."
Sirius Black's POV
It was bloody freezing in Remus' flat. I'd transformed into a dog and huddled up under the thin extra blanket Remus had, along with Raylynx's scarf, which frankly, was the best shot I had at warmth during these freezing nights.
Remus was so used to being cold that even as he shivered and his teeth chattered, he managed to sleep on. Also, the full moon had been yesterday, so I figured Remus was exhausted enough that nothing would wake up for the next few hours, at least.
This is ridiculous, I think. This is totally ridiculous.
Not for the first time, I considered going back to Grimmauld Place. But when I thought of those long, dark hallways, and the constant reminder of Regulus' presence, not to mention my mother's mad portrait, I couldn't bring myself to do it.
I'd rather die of cold than go back there, I said bitterly.
Finally, I transformed back into my human form. With shivering hands, I reached out and grasped my traveling cloak. I hadn't worn it in ages, as I'd been wearing my Demiguise Cloak everywhere lately. As I pulled on my cloak, I thought, the last time I wore this cloak, I had taken Polyjuice Potion and gone to the Bureau of Information to retrieve the original document of Regulus' death.
As always, thinking of Regulus sent me into a dark headspace. In the past, whenever I had thought of Regulus, even while in Azkaban, I had prayed. But I didn't pray now. Not anymore. There was no code of mercy in any universe that could accept me for having failed my younger brother, Regulus Black. If there was any chance of my redemption, it was you, Reg. It was you. But what was the point of holding onto hope for all these years, if in the end, when it mattered most, it didn't save you?
I let out a long breath. In fact, I think that document is still shoved away into this pocket…
I reached into the inside pocket and felt for the piece of paper. Sure enough, I found it. Quietly pulling it out, I slowly folded open the crumpled document, now torn slightly at one edge because of how I'd shoved it into my cloak pocket.
It nearly cost me my life to retrieve this piece of paper, and all it does is tell me that my little brother is dead. That's it, I thought miserably, as I stared down at it, gazing at the words that might as well be imprinted on the insides of my eyelids for the rest of my life: DECEASED – AGE 18; 1979.
My eyes traced the familiar information of my younger brother:
"Regulus Arcturus Black"
Identifying Factors:
Parents: Orion Black (DECEASED) and Walburga Black (DECEASED)
Siblings: Sirius Black (DISOWNED; CONVICTED FELON; FUGITIVE-IN-HIDING)
Birthday: June 25, 1961
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
But no information whatsoever about how he died. How can there be nothing? Even if he was a Death Eater, he should have some record. I mean, he was just a kid. He can't have been high-up in the Death Eater ranks, so he can't have been involved in a secret mission that even the Ministry didn't want recorded. But if he'd died in a common Muggle neighborhood raid or something like that, it would have been reported, right? That kind of event is not that tough to track down for the Ministry. So why…? I sighed, thoughtlessly beginning to fold up the paper again.
But then, something caught my eye – something I hadn't noticed before… I had assumed that the back of this document was empty, as all official documents tended to be one-sided to prevent ink from bleeding through and muddying up the information.
Besides, the first time I'd read this document, I'd been attacked as I was reading it, and the second time I'd looked at this document, I'd broken down before I got to the end of the page. So I had never noticed that there was a line of handwriting at the very bottom of the back of the page.
I brough the paper up to my face and saw, for the first time that scribbled at the very bottom of the back of the page, in nearly illegible cursive, were the words: Death reported in writing and anonymously by "Damocles" in 1979. After period of time where Black was not seen, death certificate finally signed off by: Bartemius Crouch Senior, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in 1981. No investigation occurred, as Black's relatives are all also dead or in prison.
Crouch's signature was crammed into the very bottom of the paper.
They couldn't even find the decency to add a new piece of paper, I thought furiously. My vision started to waver through the water slowly misting over in my eyes.
A loud buzzing began to sound out in my head. Barty Crouch. First, you send me to Azkaban without a trial. Then, you sign my brother's death certificate with no investigation and no explanation. You cold-hearted bastard. You haven't a shred of respect for anyone who hasn't got a Ministry title.
Furious, I leapt to my feet, throwing down the document on the floor where I'd been curled up. Grabbing my Demiguise Cloak in one hand and my wand in the other, I stormed out of the flat. My wand was already spitting sparks by the time I'd closed the door behind me.
Remus Lupin's POV
I woke up to an owl hooting at the tiny window at my flat.
I groaned. I clumsily reached out for my wand, wincing at the soreness that made my entire body ache whenever I moved. I found it, and then I waved it sleepily at the window. The tiny window shot open. Artemis, Raylynx's owl, had a hell of a time fitting in through the window, but he managed. Giving me a bit of an indignant squawk that could only be an owl's version of telling me off for making him do extra work, he dropped the letter on top of my head and then flew back out into the sky.
I grasped the letter, which was already sliding off of my head. I opened it blearily, nearly giving myself a finger cut as I did. I only cracked open my eyes after I'd managed to pull the letter out from its envelope. I made out the words:
Remus,
Just wanted to report that Harry did brilliantly on his Second Task. Also, enclosing a small bundle for you. Hope Snuffles' allowance has been enough to buy him a good amount of dog treats. Give him a scratch for me.
Love,
Raylynx
I reached back into the envelope and found, wrapped in cloth, a vial of Wolfsbane Potion. I shoved it under my pillow for safekeeping. Then, yawning, I rolled off in my small bed to reach over and give Sirius a "scratch" as Raylynx had asked me, knowing it would annoy him. I reached out and made to find his head with my hand – only…
Opening my eyes fully, I leaned over the edge of my bed.
But he was gone.
My heart leapt into my throat.
Ignoring the aches all over my body, I pushed myself up in bed and scanned the room, which was ridiculous, as it was a tiny room with absolutely no space to "scan."
Where is he? Where has Sirius gone?
I got up out of bed and nearly slipped on a piece of paper on the floor right beside my bed. I barely managed to keep from falling. I looked down at the floor and spotted the piece of paper.
I frowned. It was a blank piece of paper, with only some crammed-in writing at the very bottom. I picked up the paper and frowning, I squinted down at it until I could make out the writing.
Crouch…? Black…? What is this?
I flipped over the piece of paper carelessly, not expecting anything, and instead found myself staring at Regulus Black's Certificate of Death.
My jaw dropped open. When did Sirius get this?
Suddenly, I hastily flipped the document back over and read the cursive again.
"…death certificate finally signed off by: Bartemius Crouch Senior, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…"
"No," I whispered. "He wouldn't… Sirius wouldn't… It'd be madness."
Madness, yes. Only, Sirius never did lose hope for Regulus. Merlin. This must have killed him to see it. Of course he'd go after Crouch. Who wouldn't, in his shoes? It is madness. But it's the kind of madness that Sirius and I have to deal with, every step of our lives.
I was completely still for a long moment. Then, grabbing my wand and my Cloak and stuffing the document into my Cloak, I ran out of my flat, ignoring my screaming joints. Yes, I was in pain, but I was one hundred percent certain that right now, compared to Sirius' pain, mine was not even on the spectrum.
Emmeline Vance's POV
"What's up with your old boss?"
"Hm?" I looked up at Jasper Riley.
We were both sitting at a bar, one that was just across the Ministry. It'd become a bit of a habit of ours to meet on Fridays and come here after work.
"Barty Crouch," Jasper said, keeping his voice low, in case any of the other patrons around us were also Ministry workers.
"Oh…" I said, wrinkling my nose in distaste. "Yeah, he used to oversee how we moved prisoners to Azkaban, back when he was Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He enabled us guards to take the harshest measures to transfer prisoners to Azkaban, including knocking them out. I know those were dark times. For example, we had to transfer Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange. But it still felt wrong. I didn't like him very much, to be honest. Not to mention, when his own son got caught, he then changed the rules so that he and his wife could go see his son, although they only went once…"
"Well, I'm supposed to be working on a case in America, only I'm waiting on Crouch's signature," Jasper explained, "as he's the Head of International Magical Cooperation. I haven't heard from him in weeks. And normally, I would just move ahead without authorization, but I figure I shouldn't this time, since I got taken off Sirius Black's case for moving without authorization."
"Right," I said, flashing him a weak smile as we both thought of the raid at Raylynx Kingsley's house.
"But that's odd," I commented, a moment later. "Crouch never missed a day of work in his life, I don't think. You say you've been waiting for him for weeks?"
"Yes. No signature, no explanation, nothing. Not even a denial."
"Strange," I remarked, as I tipped more whiskey into my mouth.
"I think they might send me to Albania instead," Jasper said quietly, running his pinky finger along the edge of his glass.
"Albania? Why Albania?"
"Well, I've done some missions in the past there, and it keeps me out of their way, I reckon."
Remus Lupin's POV
The Crouch family, having once been one of the most famous families, owned a large mansion not far from the Ministry. I'd never been there myself personally, but I knew which house it was.
The large mansion was totally dark, however, and what was more, the front door was unlocked and already open, swaying creepily on its hinges.
I slowly and quietly pulled out my wand. I've got a bad feeling about this, I thought. Then, I carefully pushed open the door. I almost immediately jerked back, in anticipation of an attack, but there was nothing.
Holding my breath, I walked in. The floor creaked beneath my feet, and I cursed.
I walked forward, deeper into the dark house. The morning light began to disappear the further I walked into the house and soon, I was in complete darkness.
I paused, debating whether or not to cast a Light Charm. I wanted to see my surroundings, but I didn't want to give away my position so obviously, in case I wasn't alone in this house.
Speaking of, where was Sirius? I came after him… Worriedly, I swallowed. I hope I'm not too late.
I squinted into the darkness. Fortunately, because my transformation had only been two nights ago, my night vision was far more heightened than usual.
Never thought I'd be grateful for my werewolf senses, I thought wryly, as I looked around in the dark. I realized that I was in a dining room of some kind. A large wooden table was stretching out in front of me, with a number of ornately carved chairs surrounding it. Above me, the tiny glimmers of light that my eyes were able to make out indicated a chandelier hanging from the ceiling…
I hesitated. My eyes were adjusting better to the darkness now. I looked closer at the chandelier. It seemed… broken. It was difficult to tell, but it looked as though some of the lower crystals had been shattered. I looked down at the table, and sure enough, at the middle of the table, a pile of broken glass lay there, glinting dully in the darkness.
I shivered. Slowly, I turned around. I abruptly realized that the wallpaper in this room was covered with deep gashes ripping away the paper.
There's been a fight here, I thought, or some beast was set loose in here. It reminds me of the Shrieking Shack. I shuddered again. I hate this place. I hate the feeling of the place.
Suddenly, I heard someone shout loudly, "Stupefy!"
"Protego!" By instinct, I raised my wand and conjured a Shield Charm. The silver shield expanded before me almost in the blink of an eye. The Stunner bounced off.
I raised my wand, only to hear a very familiar voice call out, in total confusion, "Moony?"
"Pads?"
"Yeah, it's me." At the other doorway to the dining room, Sirius' head appeared from out of thin air.
"Oh, Merlin…" I doubled over in shock. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins so quickly that I was having a head rush.
But Sirius didn't give me a moment to rest. He ran up to me and immediately began to shove me back down the hallway, the way I'd come.
"Wait, Sirius," I said. "Let me catch my breath. You just attacked me, you knob!"
But Sirius was shaking his head furiously and still pushing me back. "No, Moons, listen to me. We have to get out of here, now!"
"What do you mean? Where's Crouch?"
"No, no," Sirius continued frantically, "Something's not right. He's not here. We've got to get out. It doesn't feel right."
"Sirius, there's no one here but us. Calm do -"
"Look!" Sirius finally burst out. "Lumos!"
His wand tip burst into light – and so did the room.
My mouth fell open when I saw the full extent of the damage in the room. Not only was the chandelier broken and the wallpaper ripped to shreds, but the china plates that had once been set out on the table had been shattered to pieces all over the table and chairs. The upholstery of the chairs had been torn, too, with feathers coming out of the seats and backs of the chairs.
"Look at that," Sirius told me, pointing to one of the table legs.
I followed his finger to see that the table leg nearest to us looked as though it had been battered and rubbed up against repeatedly by a…
"Chain," Sirius said grimly. "Someone was chained to this table, and they managed to escape. I don't know who it was or where they're at. They could still be in the house, Remus."
"My God," I whispered. "It really does look as bad as the Shrieking Shack."
"Let's get out," Sirius urged. "We can't be caught here, Moons. It's not Crouch I'm scared of, but something much, much worse. Something darker."
"Right," I said, inhaling sharply.
"Get out, get out," Sirius repeated. This time, when he shoved me back, I turned and ran down the hallway. We both tried our best to be as quiet, but as quick as possible, as we ran back through the creepy, deserted house.
Raylynx's POV
It was nearly nightfall when I went down to continue my so-called "taming of the sphynx," though really, with the way she ran circles around me, it might be more accurately be referred to as "the taming of Raylynx." Although I wanted to put this off for another day, as it was already past nine o'clock, I had not seen the sphynx since the Second Task. I had required rest about the exhaustion of what had happened to me directly after the Second Task.
Sure enough, when I opened the sphynx's cage, she leapt out at once, almost playfully, as she very much wanted to stretch out her long, powerful limbs, and play with her "toy," as she called me. But then, she immediately leapt away from me and hissed angrily, all playfulness lost in that high, threatening sound emitting from her mouth.
"What?" I said, startled. I backed away quickly, nearly tripping over a log. "What's the matter?"
"You've been in contact with Merlin, haven't you?" she snarled loudly. She let out a deafening growl.
I clapped my hands over my ears and cowered. "Please don't hurt me!" I shouted. I didn't want to fight the sphynx. Not only did I not stand a chance against her, but I was loathe to use any magic against her.
She seemed to sense my reluctance, for, after pacing again me quickly and fiercely a few times, she finally sat, though at a farther distance from me than normal.
Finally, in a calmer voice, she asked me once more, "You encountered Merlin, did you not?"
Still a bit scared, I nodded. Yes, I'd encountered Merlin, all right.
When I saw Harry and Ron struggling in the water, and the little Delacour girl slowly sinking under, not really able to swim, I dove in. I wouldn't have, if anyone else seemed to have a mind to help them, but the judges were in a conference, discussing how to weigh Harry's "moral fiber," and the crowd was completely distracted by the merfolk popping out of the water.
Once in the cold waters, I helped Gabrielle stay afloat, pushing her up and anchoring her to me.
"T-Thank you!" she gasped.
"You're all right," I reassured her. Then, I turned back to Harry and Ron and called out to them. They assured me that I was fine. Heartened, I began to swim back with Gabrielle when I suddenly saw something flash by in the murky water below me. I paused.
Oh, no… My heart thudded uncomfortably in my chest.
"Harry, Ron," I said abruptly. "Take Gabrielle, now. Take her back. Go."
I tried not to let any of my panic show on my face as I transferred Gabrielle's arm from my shoulders to Harry's.
I saw another flash of a tentacle swim by me at a furious pace. I swallowed.
"Go," I commanded, and I pushed Harry and Ron forward. They seemed a bit bemused, but they listened to me.
As soon as they had swam just a bit forward, a massive tentacle wrapped around my leg and pulled me under so quickly, there wasn't even a splash as I went down – only a bubble appeared on the water's surface.
A younger me would have thrashed, fighting at once. But now, I knew not to struggle. I merely held onto the breath I had in my lungs. I also had managed to pull out my wand, though it did little in the face of Merlin, but still, I grasped it tightly.
At my complete lack of resistance, the Giant Squid suddenly paused. I heard it's deep, rumbling voice in my mind, wondering about my stillness.
Finally, through we weren't too deep in the waters, the Squid let me go. I opened my eyes. Then, I lifted my wand. The Squid raised its tentacle – but I pointed it at myself and cast a Bubble-Head Charm.
I stared at the enormous squid before me, with all of its suction cups pulsing along its slimy tentacles. My breath hitched slightly in fear. The sheer monstrosity of the squid, especially in these dark, murky waters, would never, ever cease to frighten the life out of me.
But I swallowed hard and I said, "I fulfilled our pact."
The Squid paused, floating curiously. Then, it flipped over suddenly. I flinched, shutting my eyes tightly. However, when I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring into the huge, glassy eye of the Squid.
"Our pact," I managed to squeak out. "You gave me Gryffindor's Sword, enabling me to acquire the King's Wand. In return, you made me promise you that I would resolve the grief of those I had left behind. Well, I'm with him now, or as much as I can be… I haven't left him behind at all."
The Squid suddenly reached out again and its tentacle grasped my wand wrist. I gasped, and nearly dropped my wand. The Squid squeezed my wrist tightly. I clenched my teeth, telling myself not to drop my wand.
Through the Squid's physical touch, I could hear his voice – Merlin's voice: You did hold up your end of the bargain. And what's more – I sense Pendragon's magic still within you.
He paused. But this wand is not the King's Wand. No, it's a pathetic, ordinary wand. So, why, then, does the dragon protect you so faithfully?
I cannot kill you as I wish, not without challenging Pendragon, who slumbers within your soul, Merlin hissed.
"Why would you kill me?" I blurted out fearfully. "I did what I said I'd do."
You did, but in so doing, you gravely insulted me, Merlin snarled. Another tentacle suddenly whipped out and struck me hard in the face. I whimpered in pain.
"Merlin…" I choked out. "Please…"
Because of you, the Enchantress was able to enter my domain, my cave! You are feeding her soul. Can't you see that? And when she devours you, I will be imprisoned for another millennia. A cloud of black ink spurted from the Giant Squid.
Though the Bubble Head Charm kept me safe from the ink, it was still terrifying to suddenly be engulfed in a cloud of total darkness. I felt the razor-sharp teeth that lined each of the Squid's suckers suddenly bite into my wrist.
I cried out in pain. Still, I told myself, Don't let go of your wand, Raylynx!
Between Pendragon and the Enchantress, you've rendered me immobile in this round of history, Merlin growled. And what's more, you seek to advance the Enchantress' desires by breaking her contract with history! I see it in your head. You are weak-willed, driven entirely by fear of what is before you. You do not understand the consequences. If you free her, all history will be lost and rendered meaningless! How can you not see that, you foolish child? You have no respect for the Goblet of Fire – my creation, a designated symbol of worthiness and fair play! You seek to destroy it with your flimsy powers! Why does Pendragon seek to protect you?
Another one of Merlin's tentacles suddenly burst forth, shattering my Bubble Head Charm. I gasped – and received a mouthful of ink. I gagged. Merlin's tentacle wrapped around my neck and squeezed –
"Ah!" My scream was soundless in the water. My mind went dizzy. I couldn't see anything because of the ink cloud, but I felt the immense pressure at my neck building and building. If I wasn't going to die of suffocation, I was going to die from a broken neck, because my spine was about to snap at any second now.
My fingers went numb. They opened. My wand floated in the water for a split second. Then, it began to sink deep, deep in the waters.
Bright spots flashed out, dotting my vision. The last bubble left me. Suddenly, I felt something in me rumble. A hot flash ran through my chest – Was this death?
But no, a slow, deep, and commanding voice rang out in my head. Merlin. Release her.
She seeks to undo all that we have worked so hard to build! Merlin shouted back, still lost in rage.
I said – Release her.
Reluctantly, Merlin let me go. The tentacle slipped off of my neck. My eyes flashed open. I made to point my wand at myself again, but it wasn't there. I panicked.
Up, child. Swim up.
I listened to the voice in my head and thrust upwards as fast as I could. All of my body was burning for want of oxygen.
I'm not going to – to make it, I thought fuzzily.
But just as I thought that, my head burst out of the water. Gasping, I made for shore at once. I dragged myself out onto the shore. The grounds were deserted now. Everybody had gone back up after the announcement of the scores…
I fell onto my back against the pebbles and gulped air into my lungs.
What is going on? Why is Merlin so furious? Why did he mention the Goblet of Fire?
I lay there for a long time. Finally, pushing myself up, I made my way to Hagrid's hut.
"Professor Kingsley!" he said, beaming. "Would you like a cuppa? I was just sittin' down for a spot of afternoon tea myself to celebrate Harry's win and all! Well, it wasn't really a win, I s'pose, but in my eyes it is! Says a lot about his heart, doesn't it? That he stayed behind to help all four of the hostages…"
"Yes…" I agreed, exhausted.
Hagrid, noticing my state, frowned. "Professor, you're soaked through and through and you look – er, pardon my saying so, but you look righ' terrible."
His eyes looked over me and he said incredulously, "Is that -? Professor Kingsley, are you covered in – in ink?"
"Hagrid," I said suddenly, "may I borrow your umbrella?"
Hagrid looked taken aback. Then, he said, protectively, "But it's not rainin'…"
"Yes…" I said. "All the same. Could I borrow it just for a moment? Really, it wouldn't take more than ten minutes."
"Oh… Um, I s'pose so, then." Hagrid went and fetched his flowery pink umbrella. As he gave it to me, he murmured, "I'll really be needin' that back, Professor."
"I know, Hagrid," I replied sincerely.
Then, with Hagrid's umbrella in hand, I walked back to the Black Lake. I stayed on the shore, but I pressed the tip of the still folded-up umbrella to the water's surface. Then, focusing hard, I murmured, "Accio Wand!"
I thought I felt a shiver responding to me somewhere far below the water, but nothing appeared. I frowned. I tried again, "Accio Wand!"
The water rippled, and the waves sloshed at my feet.
Louder, I urged, "Accio Wand!"
This time, a loud splash sounded out. My eyes flashed open to see my wand, covered entirely in black ink and seaweed, fly out of the water. It traveled in a high arch over the water.
I stretched out my hand, and it flew directly into my hand. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Then, I pointed my wand at myself and murmured, "Scourgify. Calorum aeris."
The ink disappeared from my body and clothing. Then, my clothing slowly dried on my body.
I trekked back to Hagrid's hut and I came him back his umbrella.
"Thank you, Hagrid," I said warmly.
Hagrid stared at me. He seemed to waver between whether or not to ask me something. Finally, he grunted out, "How'd you know to ask for my umbrella?"
"Oh," I said vaguely, "something about a pig's tail, y' know." I flashed Hagrid a smile. "Have a wonderful afternoon tea, Hagrid. I owe you one."
Now, I stared at the sphynx. "How did you know?" I asked her.
She snorted. "Only a fool would not be able to detect Merlin's magic. It far overpowers your own. I smell Merlin on you. I see his magic lingering in your veins. Your own magic is quite diminutive in comparison to his. It is like comparing the scent of one lily to a million blooming roses. You notice the roses, obviously."
"So, do you know Merlin? Is your magic the same as his?" I wondered.
The sphynx shook her head. "Absolutely not. My magic is not really magic at all. It's pure logic."
She looked at me and recited:
What has no eyes but always tells
Not the full truth, but parts of parts?
What has no voice but always sings
Not the full tale, but lines on lines?
What has no limbs, but always kills
Not the full breed, but heroes of heroes?
What has no future, but all of the past
Not to tell time, but to create circles?
I stared at her with wide eyes. Of all the many, many riddles she had given me, this was the first where it felt like every word passed through, completely meaningless, in my mind.
But instead of menacingly waiting for my answer, the sphynx got up. She said cryptically, "Think on it." Then, she returned to her cage.
I walked up to her cage. Pressing my hands and face against the golden bars, I said uncertainly, "That's all for today?"
"Ye -" The sphynx abruptly cut off. She sniffed the air. I slowly backed away.
Her eyes flashed. "Go!" she suddenly shouted at me. "Go! You are needed!"
"W-What?" I said, startled.
She beat her wings most impatiently at me, sending leaves flurrying through the air at me.
"All right! All right!" I said, scampering back. I turned and began to run back through the now-dark forest, totally and utterly bewildered by these blasted creatures of old.
But the sphynx's last warning became patently obviously within the next few minutes. For, as I raced up the grounds back towards the Hogwarts castle, I saw a small crowd of people at the edge of the forest. It was a somewhat odd grouping of people – Dumbledore, Harry, Moody, Karkaroff, Viktor, and Hagrid.
As I neared them, Karkaroff's head snapped up. "You!" he snarled at me. "In the forest, alone! You are most suspicious!"
"Igor," Dumbledore warned. He turned and looked at me. In a calm voice, he said, "Professor Kingsley."
"Why are you all gathered here?" I asked him, approaching the group.
Dumbledore's voice was grim as he said quietly, "As you see."
I reached the group and Dumbledore stepped aside. I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth, for lying on the forest floor, at everyone's feet, was Barty Crouch – dead.
Harry Potter's POV
When Professor Kingsley saw Crouch on the forest floor, she immediately walked over to me and hugged me to her with one arm. I heard her murmuring, "Oh my God… How…?"
Her question made me think back to what had just happened to me.
After Transfiguration, McGonagall had told me to head down to the Quidditch field in the evening to receive information about the Third Task.
I reached the Quidditch field roughly around the same as Cedric, who nodded to me. But he stopped short when he saw the Quidditch pitch. "What have they done it?" he said indignantly.
The Quidditch field looked as though it had been carved up, dug up, but also allowed to run wild with overgrown grass. I paused. It took a moment for the pieces to come together. "They're hedges," I realized. "They're growing a maze here…"
"Hello there! Come, come!" Bagman had spotted Cedric and me. He waved at us to come over. Fleur and Viktor were already standing besides him.
"Well, well, what do you think?" Bagman asked us, as we joined them. "Growing nicely, aren't they? But don't worry, you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, anybody figure out what this is?"
Bagman looked over at me, but I remained resolutely silent, determined not to give him an answer. Bagman had an odd habit of trying to talk to me whenever he could, and he didn't seem to do that to the other Champions. He wasn't just a Professor, either, but an actual judge and from the Ministry. It felt quite weird. So, I ignored him.
Thankfully, Viktor piped up, "Maze."
"That's right!" Bagman said. "A maze. Yes, the Third Task's straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
Fleur traded confused looks with Cedric. "We simply have to get through a maze?"
"Oh, there'll be obstacles!" Bagman assured her. "Spells, creatures, you know…" He went on for a few more minutes before he said, "If you haven't got any questions, let's go back up to the castle. It's a bit chilly out here." No one had any questions, so we started to head back up.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Turning, I saw Viktor standing behind me. "Can I have a word with you?"
I was surprised, but I tried not to show it. "Sure."
Viktor led the way out of the stadium. I expected him to head towards the Durmstrang ship, but instead, he walked towards the forest.
Before I could ask what was going on, Viktor said shortly, "Don't want to be overheard."
Overheard? I thought. Sounds serious. Does he know something about the Third Task? Or does he know that Cedric and I have been helping each other?
Viktor turned around so suddenly, I nearly ran into him.
Then, peering down at me, Viktor said, "I want to know what there is going on between you and Hermione."
I stared up at Viktor, completely baffled. Wait, what? This is the serious thing? This is what he brought me out to the forest for?
"Erm - nothing," I said truthfully.
Viktor gave me a highly skeptical look. "You two are always together, though."
"We're friends," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "She's not my girlfriend. She never has been."
"She talks about you very often," Viktor said.
A hot glow of embarrassment was starting to burn in my chest now. I could not believe I was having this conversation with an International Quidditch player and the Durmstrang Champion.
"Yeah, maybe," I mumbled. "But only 'cause we're friends."
"So… You have never – You have not -"
"No," I said, quite firmly, never wanting Viktor to finish that sentence.
Viktor glowered for one second more. Then, he nodded, and the cloud on his brow disappeared. "You know, you fly very well. I was watching at the First Task."
I grinned. "Thanks. You know, I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint was pretty amaz -"
Just then, I thought I saw something move in the trees behind Viktor. I reached out and grabbing Krum's arm, I pulled him around.
"What?" Viktor asked.
Before I could answer, a man staggered out from behind a tall oak.
"Who is that?" I whispered.
Viktor, too, was silent for a moment. Then, his eyes opened wide in alarm as he said, "Isn't he a judge? Isn't he with your Ministry?"
Only after Viktor had said that di I recognize Mr. Crouch. He looked as though he'd been traveling for days. His ropes were ripped and bloody. His face and wrists were scratched. His face was also a sickly gray. What was more, he was acting very oddly.
Flourishing his hand in the air, Crouch's eyes slid in and out of focus as he muttered non-stop. "… Now, Weatherby, send another owl at once to Madame Maxime. I know she'll want to bring as many students as she can, and now that Karkaroff has successfully petitioned to bring more students…"
"What's wrong with him?" Viktor whispered to me.
"I don't know," I muttered. I reached into my robes and gripped my wand with one hand. Then, I went up to Crouch. Uncertainly, I said, "Mr. Crouch?"
Mr. Crouch stopped and instead of looking at me, he turned to a nearby tree and continued to give it instruction.
"Mr. Crouch!" I said loudly. "Are you all right?"
Crouch's eyes bulged. Then, he fell to his knees. He groaned, "No, no, no…"
Viktor and I traded concerned looks. Well, if Crouch is ill, I can't just leave him here, I thought. Making up my mind, I went to Mr. Crouch and put my hand on my shoulder. "Mr. Crouch - !"
"Dumbledore!" Crouch had suddenly lifted his head and, with his eyes rolling back in his head, he'd shouted out again, "Dumbledore!"
"Seriously, what's wrong with him?" Viktor said, for he'd followed me down further into the trees.
"Mr. Crouch," I repeated myself, trying to sound firm, though the whole thing was starting to scare me. "If you can get up, I'll take you to Dumble -"
"I must see him! I must!" Crouch croaked. He seized the front of my robes.
"Harry!" Viktor shouted.
"I'm all right!" I told him.
"I need to see… Dumbledore…" Crouch whispered to me. Up close, I could see that Crouch's face needed both a good wash and a good shave. Trying not to grimace, I nodded and said, as reassuringly as I could, "All right. I'll take you to Dumbledore! But you need to get up!"
Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto me. "Who – Who are you?"
"I'm a student…" I said, bewildered. "Mr. Crouch -"
"You're not… his?" A trickle of spit began to run down Crouch's mouth.
"No," I replied, though I had absolutely no idea what Crouch was talking about.
"Dumbledore's?"
"Yeah…"
"Warn him. Warn… Dumbledore…"
"I will! If you can just – let go -" I had to grapple with Crouch for a moment, but finally, I was free.
Suddenly, Crouch sprang back up.
Viktor raised his wand behind me, thinking Crouch might attack me. Instead, Crouch was back to speaking fluently to a tree. "Oh, yes, my son has recently scored twelve O.W.L.S. Most satisfactory, yes. Now, I understand I have to sign a release form for one of our Aurors headed to America. Please, bring it to me. I know the Aurors are waiting on my permission, and they need to get rather impatient. I know Aurors, see. Yes, yes, bring it now…"
"I'm going to go get Dumbledore," I decided aloud. "Viktor, can you stay with him?
Viktor looked doubtfully at Crouch.
"I know where Dumbledore's office is," I told him.
Finally, Viktor nodded.
Suddenly, Crouch slumped forward again and with tears streaking down his eyes, he pressed his forehead hard against the tree bark as he muttered, "It's my fault… Bertha… My son… My fault… Harry Potter… the Dark Lord – He's growing stronger!"
Then, he cried out loudly again, "Dumbledore!" and bashed his head against the tree hard enough to draw blood.
"Mr. Crouch!" I shouted.
But Crouch seemed to be in a world of his own, not hearing me at all.
I turned around and started to run back towards the castle.
"Hurry, won't you?" Viktor said, looking very disturbed.
"Yeah. Just keep watch over him!" I shouted back. Then, feet thudding across the leaves, I made my way back up to the castle.
Once inside, I sprinted up towards Dumbledore's office. I didn't know the password to his office, obviously, and ended up shouting all kinds of obscenities at the winged sculpture before it turned. Dumbledore himself came down the steps.
"Harry?" he said mildly. "It's late, and if you shout with such vigor, you're bound to be discovered by Mr. Filch."
"Professor!" I shouted. "It's Mr. Crouch! He's turned up in the forest! He's… He's not well, but he wants to speak to you!"
Dumbledore's expression immediately hardened. "All right. Lead the way."
I nodded, feeling relieved.
As we quickly made our way out of the castle, Dumbledore asked me in a low, quiet voice, "Did he say anything else, Harry?"
"I'm not sure. He's not in his right mind, Professor," I replied. "Sometimes he keeps talking like he's in the office. Then, he goes all – all odd and starts talking about the Dark Lord."
"Could you make out anything?"
"Um…" I wracked my brains. "There was a line in there about… warning you. He mentioned Bertha Jorkins, I remember that. Also, something about his son, and the Dark Lord and -" I swallowed – "and me."
"Indeed." Dumbledore sighed. Then, he said, "I presume, by the way you are taking me, that you met him in the forest?"
"Yes," I replied. "After the Champions' meeting, Viktor and I went for a walk to talk - talk about stuff. Then, we ran into Mr. Crouch. Mr. Crouch asked to see you, so I ran up here, and Viktor stayed with Mr. Crouch."
"Viktor is with Mr. Crouch?" Dumbledore said sharply.
I nodded.
Dumbledore began to take longer strides, quickening his pace to reach the forest faster. I was nearly jogging to keep up.
Finally, we came to the forest. Only, it was completely quiet.
"Viktor?" I called out. "Where are you?"
Silence.
"Professor, I… They were here," I said, starting to feel nervous again.
Dumbledore lifted his wand. Almost immediately, his wand tip flared up with light. The light illuminated several of the tree trunks until – Dumbledore and I spotted a pair of feet at the same time. We both rushed forward.
"Viktor!" I said, turning him over. Viktor had been sprawled out on the forest floor.
Dumbledore murmured, "Ennervate."
A moment later, Viktor sat up. "Ouch," he muttered, holding his hand to his shoulder. Then, blinking back to consciousness, he said indignantly, "He attacked me! That old man attacked me!"
"Should I go and get someone?" I asked Dumbledore. "Madam Pomfrey?"
"No. You stay here with me for now, Harry. Don't move." Then, Dumbledore whisked his wand up in the air. A silver phoenix erupted from the end of his wand and went soaring off, quite quickly, towards Hagrid's hut.
Then, Dumbledore looked around at the surrounding trees, frowning. He only had a few minutes to look before Hagrid came racing up, with Fang at his side.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid said. "Harry?"
"Hagrid," Dumbledore replied, and his voice was still one of utmost calm. "Please alert Headmaster Karkaroff that his student has been attacked. He should come here, to Viktor. Then, once you've done that, please alert Professor Moody -"
"Already here."
I whirled around to see Professor Moody limping towards us, coming from the castle. "Damn leg," he muttered. "Would've been here quicker."
"I saw this little gathering from my office window," he said. "What's happened?"
Meanwhile, Hagrid went off, his huge feet pounding across the grass as he went, and with Fang running dutifully behind him.
"Alastor," Dumbledore said gravely, "Bartemius Crouch has arrived on our grounds. I don't know where he is at the present, but it is imperative that we find him."
"On it," Moody growled.
Karkaroff, guided by Hagrid and Fang, arrived shortly after Moody left.
"What happened?" Karkaroff cried out. "Viktor! Are you all right?"
"I'm all right, but I was attacked," Viktor said grimly.
"Attacked? By who? Harry -?"
"No, not Harry. By Crouch."
"Crouch? The TriWizard judge, Crouch?" Karkaroff's eyes flashed in great fury. "Dumbledore! What is this treachery? Trying to put our Champion out of the running, eh? Isn't it enough that Hogwarts gets two bites at the apple? But to physically try to take out Viktor -!"
"Igor," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "This is not -"
"No! I've had enough!" Karkaroff shouted. "I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences - here's what I think of you!" Sneering, Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet.
Hagrid suddenly seized Karkaroff by the front of his furs and lifting him clean into the air, Hagrid slammed him against a nearby tree. "Apologize!"
"No!" Dumbledore said, finally raising his voice. "Hagrid, no!"
Hagrid growled, but he removed his hand from Karkaroff. Karkaroff slid down the trunk and landed with a heavy "oof!" back on the ground.
At that moment, Moody returned. I saw him putting away a piece of parchment in his cloak. I recognized it at once as the Marauder's Map.
"Alastor," Dumbledore said urgently.
"Yeah, I found him, all right," Moody said grimly. "I don't know how you lot missed him. Constant vigilance!"
"How is he?" Dumbledore asked, quickly striding forward.
Moody paused for a moment. He seemed to lick his lips with his tongue, only rather quickly, before he pronounced, "Dead."
Sure enough, Crouch was only a hundred yards or so away from us, still in the fringe of the forest.
"Merlin's beard," Hagrid breathed out. "He really is dead."
Just then, a loud rustling sound sounded out. All of us on edge, we turned almost as one. To my surprise, it was none other than Professor Kingsley, racing up through the forest. Seeing us all standing around in a circle, she headed for us.
Karkaroff snarled at her, "You! In the forest, alone! You are most suspicious!"
"Igor," Dumbledore warned. Then, he greeted Professor Kingsley.
"Why are you all gathered here?" she asked, coming closer.
Dumbledore sighed. "As you see." He stepped aside just as Professor Kingsley reached us. She gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in evident shock as she saw Mr. Crouch's body on the ground.
"H-He's not -?"
Dumbledore nodded once. Then, he said, "Igor, Viktor, if you wish, you may go up to the castle to see Madam Pomfrey -"
But Karkaroff has already grabbed Viktor and was marching him away, back towards the Durmstrang ship.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, "would you be all right with helping to move Mr. Crouch's body?"
"Of course," Hagrid replied gruffly.
"Thank you. And Professor Moody, if you would stay with me…" Dumbledore looked over at Professor Kingsley and me. I was still in her one-armed embrace. He seemed to sigh, but then he said, "Professor Kingsley, if you would be so kind, please escort Harry back up to Gryffindor Tower. Then, go into my office – the password is 'Cockroach Clusters' and awaken Fawkes. Please tell him to alert Cornelius Fudge. He'll know what to do."
Professor Kingsley nodded. Then, she released me, though she kept her hand on my shoulder and the other, in her robes, where I was sure she was grasping her wand. As we walked up to the castle together, I was suddenly reminded of what Moody had told me, that Professor Kingsley had once been an Auror.
Professor Kingsley asked me to recount what had happened, and I told her. She frowned when I conveyed how Mr. Crouch seemed to be disturbed in the mind.
"Have you ever seen anyone like that before?" I asked her.
She slowly shook her head. "No, not in the way you're describing it – switching in and out of mindsets. That's very odd."
"And what do you think he mentioned his son for?"
"I don't know… His son was a convicted Death Eater. I remember the trial."
"You do?"
"Yes. I had to testify."
"What?" I said, astonished. "Why?"
"I was one of the Aurors assigned to hunt down the Lestranges. The Lestranges and Crouch's son were convicted at the same trial… because they were accused of the same thing," she replied. Her eyes dimmed, and her hand on my shoulder shook slightly.
"What were they accused of?" I asked.
Professor Kingsley's hand shook even harder on my shoulder. She removed her hand from me and shoved it inside of her robes.
"Never mind that, Harry," she said quietly. "It's too much darkness for one night, and what's more, it's not my story to tell…"
She saw me all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, but when she left me, I was more deeply shaken than I'd been when I saw Crouch's dead body. The truth was, Crouch's death would haunt me very much in the following days, even weeks, but it felt too surreal for my mind to grapple with at the moment. However, seeing Professor Kingsley so visibly upset immediately left me shaken, too.
I didn't know what to do. So, I did the only things I thought would make me feel better: I wrote Sirius a letter and sent it off with Hedwig. Then, I found Ron and Hermione in the common room. We backed away into an isolated corner and I told them what had happened. It wasn't until Hermione pointed it out that I realized I was shaking all over.
"Oh, Harry," she said miserably. Her own eyes were wide with fright. She brought over her school cloak and draped it over me, even though I already had mine on.
"I'm all right," I told her.
"But how did it happen?" Ron wondered. "I mean, did the person who attacked Viktor also attack Crouch or -?"
I shook my head and replied heavily, "I don't know. I don't think even Dumbledore knows."
Hermione bit down on her lower lip.
"Well, mate," Ron said finally. "I'm glad you're okay. I dunno who attacked Krum, but at least they didn't get you."
Raylynx's POV
After I saw Harry enter the Gryffindor common room, I did as Dumbledore asked and made my way to his office. I spoke the password, "Cockroach Clusters" and entered the office.
As always, the intricate curiousness of Dumbledore's office took my breath away. For a moment, I stared up at the moving celestial maps in the ceiling. Then, lowering my head back down, my eyes fell upon the sleeping bird, for Fawkes was curled up in his beautiful feathers, with his eyes closed.
"Fawkes," I murmured. "Fawkes, wake up. Dumbledore's sent me up here to wake you."
Though my voice was no louder than a mumble, Fawkes was immediately up, stretching his wings and blinking open his luminous eyes.
"Dumbledore asked me to tell you to alert Cornelius Fudge," I relayed.
Fawkes nodded once. Then, not merely stretching, but spreading open his wings to the fullest, he glided down from his stand. He soared out through Dumbledore's window, passing through the glass like it was water. My mouth dropped open at the sight.
I walked up to the window and curiously pressed my hand against it, but it seemed like solid glass to me.
"Huh," I said, impressed.
I stepped back, and I found myself looking at the bookshelf behind Dumbledore's desk. High on the bookshelf, there was the Sorting Hat. Then, a little lower, on the actual shelves themselves, I saw the books on Horcruxes that Dumbledore had removed from the library. My heart thudded most uncomfortably in my heart.
I still haven't figured out how to destroy that locket, I thought guiltily. That is, without destroying the container.
I slid out one of the books on Horcruxes, called "Secrets of the Darkest Art." I opened the Table of Contents and found the Chapter labeled "Destruction of a Horcrux." I flipped to it, already knowing what I would find. Sure enough, the book said:
"Horcruxes made from inanimate objects are extremely difficult to destroy. They cannot be destroyed by conventional means such as smashing, breaking or burning. To be destroyed, a Horcrux must suffer damage so severe that repair through magical means would be impossible…"
"No…" With a deeply pained look on my face, I shut the book at once. I was breathing heavily, as though I had run a marathon of some sort.
"You should not be snooping." A thin, reedy voice, which most certainly was not Dumbledore's, rang out loud and clear, as though somebody was standing right at my shoulder.
With a loud gasp, I shoved the book back on the shelf. Then, I whirled around, expecting to see someone immediately behind me. But… there was no one there.
"Who's there?" I called out, reaching into my robes. My head whipped back and forth, though the office was narrow enough that I could see the whole room in one glance.
"Pft. You think a wand is the answer to everything. Foolish girl. I pity Dumbledore, having to depend on the likes of you. But then again, Dumbledore himself is rather odd and holds all of the wrong beliefs. So, on second thought, perhaps it's not such a strange wonder, after all, that he finds some use for you…"
By the time the drawling voice had gotten through insulting Dumbledore and me, I'd managed to locate the voice.
It was a talking portrait. I frowned. I didn't recognize the man in the portrait. He was rather clever-looking, sporting black hair and dark eyes. After a moment of studying him, I found myself thinking that something about him was strangely familiar. Especially the eyes, I thought, there's a haughtiness in them that I recognize for certain.
"Who are you?" I murmured, stepping closer. I read the label carven into the portrait's frame. "Phineas Nigellus Black…"
My mouth fell open as the name hit me. "You're – You're…!"
"I'm what, precisely?" the man in the portrait said caustically. Out with it, girl, you're gaping like a goldfish. It's terribly unbecoming."
"You're a Black ancestor," I said in a hushed voice. "You're Sirius' -"
"Oh, dear lord, don't mention me in connection with that idiot of a great-great-great-grandson. The shame!"
"But, what is a picture of Sirius' ancestor doing here?" I wondered aloud, cocking my head to the side.
"How dare you! I was the Headmaster of Hogwarts for twenty years!" Phineas bellowed at me. "You know of my great prat of a great-great-great-grandson, but not of me? How can one be so ignoble and ignorant?"
"Oh, well, one could hardly blame her, Phineas," another portrait subject had blinked awake. It was a witch, with long blonde curls and rather hawkish, yet kind, brown eyes. "After all," she said, deceptively charmingly to Phineas, "you were the most unpopular Headmaster in all of Hogwarts history…"
"I would move to deny such an impudent title," Phineas shot back.
"Anyhow," the witch addressed me – her label identified her as "Dilys Derwent" – "we're portraits of prior Heads of Hogwarts."
"Oh…" I suddenly realized that what I simply taken as portraits and paintings strewn about Dumbledore's office were actually rows and rows of prior Heads. Most of them were fast asleep, though I could see two others – Armando Dippet and Joseph Everard – now slowly blinking awake. I walked over to Dippet first and read his label curiously.
"Hello," he said to me kindly.
"Hello," I replied, blinking up at him.
After exchanging a few awkward blinks with Armando Dippet, I moved onto Everard's portrait.
In contrast to Dippet, Everard remained quiet, but his eyes twinkled with a mischievous glee.
It was then, in Everard's portrait, that I saw it – the Goblet of Fire! It was painted within the picture and situated behind Everard's figure. My eyes shot open.
I rushed forward to look closer, nearly tripping over the end of the rug underlying Dumbledore's desk.
"Clumsy, too," I heard Phineas say snidely.
But I barely heard him. Of all the places to hide something! Inside of a painting! Ingenious, Dumbledore.
"How… How did that get in there?" I whispered, shocked. For up close, I could confirm that there it was, the Goblet of Fire, crammed into the landscape behind Everard. "It can't be… a part of the painting itself, can it?"
"Ah, yes, Albus asked me if I would mind having the Goblet in my picture for a while," Everard said casually. "I said it was all right, though it is a bit uncomfortable when I'm trying to sleep, I must confess."
"Well," I said, still in an awe-struck voice, "let me take it off your hands for you."
"That would make you a thief," Phineas commented dryly.
Everard merely looked at me with amused eyes. "You think it so easy, young one? The very nature of the Goblet has been changed. Flattened into two dimensions. Can you truly recall it, with your magical ability?"
I paused, struck by what Everard was saying. Right. In order to take it, I first have to figure out how to "lift" the Goblet from the painting, so to speak.
"Well," I wondered aloud, "how did you get into the painting in the first place, may I ask?"
A round of tsks hissed up from the portraits that were awake.
"Asking such questions, you should be ashamed!"
"Are all young ones insolent enough to question death these days?"
"No sensitivity for how we might feel about the question!"
"All right! All right!" I said loudly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. I just meant that your natures had to change, too. Once you've become a portrait, you've passed away and yet now, you cannot die…"
My words trailed off as a new round of hissing sprang up.
"Even worse this time!"
"Shut her foul mouth!"
"Did Albus really invite her in?"
"Well, she had the password…"
But this time, I hadn't fallen silent in response to the commentary. No, instead, I was thinking about the sphynx. She's alive, yet she cannot die. That's why her mind works along strange pathways. Yes, every paradox of human nature is as straightforward as a straight, defined line to her.
I paused. Dimensionality is not a difficult thing, if only one is willing to change their own perspective.
I squatted down on my knees.
"What's she doing?"
"What an awkward pose! Most inelegant."
"I say," Everard said loudly, attempting to peer down at me, "what are you doing?"
Everard's eyes, drawn all the way down, and mine, looking all the way from the very bottom of the painting, suddenly met. And in that moment, we shared the same line of sight – neither was truly two-dimensional nor three-dimensional. And the Goblet, too, looked almost lifted from the canvas.
Now! I thought to myself. I lifted my wand and cried out, "Accio Goblet!"
To my own astonishment, it lifted from the painting and came straight into my hands, growing quite large as it raced towards me. I caught it. I let out a noise of sheer, breathless disbelief.
"Thank you!" I said loudly, almost dancing with the Goblet in my hands. I raised it over my head and did a victory lap in front of the portraits.
"Most vile…"
"I do believe she runs rather like a chicken…"
"A most unsightly gait…"
"Thank you, Phineas!" I shouted, for it had been his awakening that called my attention to the portraits.
"That's Professor Black to you, you insolent little imp," Phineas replied snidely.
His remark suddenly reminded me that Dumbledore might come in at any moment. Shoving it into my cloak as best as I could, I blatantly raced out of the office at once.
As I left, Phineas smirked and said, "She thanked me. See? I'm not unpopular at all."
"Yes," Everard agreed. "I helped her, and she simply stole from me. Well. She is a curious girl, so I shan't take it to heart."
"She knew your great-great-great-grandson, Phineas," Armando said. "Perhaps that is why she had some affection for you."
"Oh no," Phineas said at once. "Anyone who attributes the existence of that idiot will be sure to hate me. The boy is a complete failure in every sense. Not only was he sorted into Gryffindor, but then he can't even show bravery. He doesn't even have the courage to make use of his own house."
"Did you go looking for him?" Dilys asked, with interest. "Did you visit your portrait in Grimmauld Place?"
"Once or twice," Phineas said, in a would-be careless voice. "But no sign of the coward." He snorted. "What kind of idiot doesn't even know how to use their own inheritance?"
"Ah," Everard said touchingly, "inheritance is not always such an easy thing, Phineas."
"It is if you get rid of sentimentality," Phineas said thinly.
"We're not all heartless here," Dilys replied, smiling. "Some of us still like to consider courage a response -"
"- To the presence and not the absence of fear, yes, yes," Phineas said, all but rolling his eyes. "Save it, please, madam."
"Shush!" Armando said suddenly. "I hear footsteps. That must be Albus."
"Well, I do believe that is my cue to pretend I've gone to sleep," Everard said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I'm not quite prepared to fess up about how I lost the Goblet, not just yet."
"Lost?" Phineas said, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "You cannot lose a goblet in a forty inch by forty inch portrait, Everard. You damn well know you gave that goblet away."
Then, the door clicked open, and everyone fell silent.
