Last time...

"How are you even able to do that?" Lucius asked, gesturing to the illusion she'd just banished.

"Oh, uh…No one told me I couldn't, so I just…did?" She shrugged, and Lucius could feel his right eye twitching. This, this is why Severus insisted she apprentice with him.

"You're not going to be able to stand up for much longer, let alone free us." Lucius warned. "At least, not right now."

She reluctantly nodded in understanding. "Could one of you take what I did, and plant the memory in his head? Mine too. Oh, and obliviate him of the actual activities of the night. That would be great."

"Why hide the attempted return?" Lucius asked, after looking from the parents and back to her.

"Besides Fudge being an Ostrich?" She asked weakly. They all nodded. "I won't be. I'll tell those who will actually listen, but those tend to be the people not in power, people who can actually do things. So, could one of you do the thing? Maybe before I pass out?"

Chapter 36

"Something's not right." Severus muttered, looking over the maze. Two red sparks had come up, but nothing yet for the others.

"Quick question. Why can't we see anything?" Stark asked, butting in. Severus sighed, the man was as annoying as James had been in his youth. "I get the whole navigate a maze deal with obstacles inside, but why are we sitting in the bleachers when you all don't even have something to magically follow them around so we can see what's going on?"

It was like a pin had dropped. That's what was wrong. They were supposed to be able to see them. After the disaster that was the second task, it had been decided that they would set up something to see them during this one. So what had happened, and why had it taken him till now to realize what was wrong? Severus began moving through the crowd, Stark following after him, heading for Dumbledore. Many of the onlookers were confused, but parted quickly upon seeing that the Potions Master was on a mission.

"Albus, something's wrong." Severus stated, once he'd made his way to the judges table. "The viewscopes should be active. We should be seeing them. What happened?"

"Interference of some kind, I'm afraid. We've not been able to localize it." Albus sighed, having been trying to solve the matter along with his fellow judges. "Does your companion have any electronics on him perhaps?"

"Nothing that would interfere with a magical field of this size." Stark argued.

"How would you know?" Karkaroff demanded, though his bravado seemed more for show than anything else.

"I read." Stark replied, talking as if to a simpleton.

"What are you even doing here?" Fudge demanded, puffing his chest out to make himself look important. "You're a muggle! This is breaking the Statute of Secrecy, Albus! I demand-"

"How?" Stark countered. "I'm Hera Potter's brother."

Fudge sputtered, trying to find something to be indignant about.

"How much longer do you think that bubble's gonna hold, anyway?" Stark continue contemplatively eyeing the man now. "You have two of the most famous and influential people on this planet, one magical and one non-magical, both of whom are related to each other. Muggles have near instantaneous communications across the globe. Camera surveillance is nearly everywhere, and it's only going to continue to grow. We have the ability to pinpoint locations using satellites that orbit the Earth, and we can blow up entire cities if we feel the need. I should know. I design the weapons that can do that. In fact, I'm so good at it, the newspapers have started calling me the Merchant of Death. So when I say I know something, I know it, and I would really appreciate it if you stopped second guessing me because you think muggles are stupid. We scared you even when all you thought we had were torches and pitchforks. What's that say about you?"

Fudge looked like he wanted to make something of it, but just then a couple of the perimeter guards came out with Krum and Delacour floating in unconscious states.

"Man eating vines got to Miss Delacour, it seems, and…Krum is suffering a brain bleed from trying to resist the Imperious Curse." Madam Pomfrey announced, after a quick examination.

"That's one of the 'you go to straight to prison' ones, right?" Stark asked, looking to Severus, who nodded; his face decidedly grim. "Yeah, Hera's not coming to school here anymore."

"You can't just pull her out of school, my boy-" Albus began, only to have Stark snap his fingers and poke the man in the chest.

"First off, I'm not your boy. Second, you have no say so over Hera. Third, you can't tell me there aren't magic schools in the US, or that there aren't tutors or something. She's apprenticed to a Potions Master, and he's not obligated to stay here anymore than she is." Stark argued. "He gets a good enough job offer, and he's gone; and trust me, not only could I outbid you, I could afford to burn the money just to watch you suffer."

It suddenly dawns on Severus that, even though he knows she hasn't told Stark about what happened yet, the man is right. The Dark Mark, and the Vow that had been attached to it, is gone. He could go anywhere, do anything. He wasn't beholden to Albus anymore. Severus was not the type to leave the school high and dry without a Potions professor, but it occurs to him that he could. Huh. Perhaps this is what Potter felt like whenever she had an idea about something that came with the sudden realization that no one had told her it wasn't possible. This required thinking about.

"I'm an idiot." Hera realizes, once Lucius planted the memory in her head. The man just looked at her in confusion. "…Dobby."

With a pop, Dobby appeared in the middle of the graveyard with them.

"Harry Potter, this is not a place yous should be in!" Dobby scolded with worry, his already bulbous eyes growing larger when they spotted his former master.

"Dobby, Rat man kidnapped me in an attempt to bring back the Great Git. Mr Malfoy and these others all wish to be freed from the Dark Mark, but that's going to take time and energy I don't have today." Hera informed him. "Would you take them somewhere safe? I have informed them that there is certain behaviours they are well known for that I will not be tolerating, and cruelty to you and others of your kind are one of those things. Should they not comply with treating you with dignity and respect, I imagine they will find it very informative if you gave them some practical experience on what it is really like to live as a poorly treated and enslaved House Elf."

Dobby thought about it for a moment, and then nodded in affirmative. "Harry Potter should be going back to Hogwarts first."

"Thank you, Dobby." Hera sighed gratefully. "Oh! Could you get a pair of animagi dampening cuffs from the Aurors, or maybe a collar? If they agree, tell them I was kidnapped via Portkey by Pettigrew, and the Portkey will go back to Hogwarts, so meet us there. Also, it's okay to tell them I have knocked him out."

...

She wanted to hurl as soon as she landed. Portkey travel really was the worst. She was shaky enough as it was from the events of the night, but this did not help. The smell of grass filled Hera's nose, and she used it to ground her in the here and now. Sounds of screams reached her, the people in the stands realizing that all was not right somehow. Pettigrew began squirming, and it all came back to her. Now that the anger hit her full force, Hera stood up, dragging Pettigrew with her, and leveled her glare at the first person that came rushing up to her.

"Would anyone like to tell me why no one was informed that Pettigrew had escaped?" She demanded, hoisting Pettigrew up as proof.

"I'm the Minister of Magic! You shouldn't talk to me that way!" The man exclaimed in indignation, and Hera snorted.

"I've just been kidnapped via portkey to a graveyard in the middle of who knows where, was used unwillingly in some half baked blood magic ritual in this idiot's bizarre attempt to bring back his Dark Lord from the dead, only for it to fail and call forth some unholy golem that ended up melting before my eyes." She snapped, giving him a withering glare. "I'll talk to you any damn way I like, and right now I would like to know why no one informed me or anyone else that this man had escaped Askaban."

"Miss Potter, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I'm an Auror with the Ministry. Your house elf Dobby sent for me. Do you remember?" An ebony skinned man with flamboyant yellow robes with stark black embellishments announced, cautiously stepping forward. "I see the cuffs held; nub of an arm beside. Good."

"Is there a cell for animagi? Or an animagi dampening collar?" Hera asked politely, transferring Pettigrew to the man. "I'm not sure cuffs were really the way to go."

Shacklebolt took charge of Pettigrew, and Hera felt the magic exhaustion and lack of adrenaline begin to catch up to her.

"Hera! Hera!" Tony was suddenly in front of her, checking her over for injuries as if he were a worried mum. "What happened? Are you hurt? I'm an idiot. Of course, you're hurt. No more death tourneys, Sport. I'm not supposed to get gray hairs till my nineties, and maybe not even then."

Hera just started snickering. Of course, he would mother her like she did her friends.

"I'm fine, Tony, just tired." Hera sighed, her eyes barely able to stay open as it was. "Magic exhaustion is a pain. I just need sleep, and enough food to feed three Volstaggs, but I can't right now. Someone helped him."

"Helped him? Helped who?" Tony asked before Fudge could.

"Pettigrew. He had to have help from someone here." Hera stated, trying to fight off the sleep she knew she needed. "Someone had to have tricked the Goblet, changed the transport of the trophy portkey from here to that graveyard."

"Who?" Fudge demanded, trying to instigate himself into this impromptu investigation.

"He didn't say." Hera shook her head. "Wasn't making any sense. Someone's been breaking into Professor Snape's ingredients cupboard though, have been all year. We can never catch them, and they never leave any evidence other than the missing ingredients, so we never reported it."

"Stay here, Miss Potter. We'll get to the bottom of this." Dumbledore insisted, looking more concerned than she could ever remember him being. His expression quickly became one of surprise when Hera shot forward, and punched him square in the face.

"This is all your fault!" She shouted angrily, shocking the people around her, energy momentarily boosted from anger. Dumbledore himself looked at her with wide eyes as he held his hand to his jaw, though considering the state of Pettigrew's face, Hera thought he should count himself lucky she hadn't punched him with everything she could. "Do you just enjoy putting children in danger for your own amusement? Because that's all I've seen you do since I've been here!"

"Potter, that's enough."

She has no idea who's said that, and right now she doesn't care.

"No it isn't! It'll never be enough! He endangers children's lives every day, and no one ever does anything!" She continued shouting. More people were listening to her now. "None of you thought it odd to hold a death tournament with schools of children?! I mean, why not?! It's entertainment! Never mind that you risked children's lives for your own amusement! Never mind that wixen children are to be seen as precious, because there are so few of us!"

"Potter-"

Again, she has no idea who's trying to stop her; her eyes firmly on Dumbledore.

"No! You egotistical overblown jackass! I almost died because of you! Again!" She continues to shout. "My friends have almost died because of you! There is a young quarter veela who may never recover because of you, and another who is distraught because her sister was who she would miss most! There's no way her parents gave you permission to risk her life! I was taken hostage via portkey, used in some blood ritual, and almost murdered! Because. Of. You!"

"Potter-"

"What would you have done?!" She demanded, glaring at the man now. "If Hermione had died? If Gabrielle had died? Or Ron? Cho? What would you have done?! What? A quick little note? Sorry your child is dead? Better luck next time?

Hermione's parents are muggles! What would they have told people when their only daughter didn't come home?! How could they be expected to just…move on from that? She's their only child, you utter bastard! How could you risk her life like that? Their lives like that?

Did you know what would happen to that little girl when you put her at the bottom of the Black Lake?! At least the Champions knowingly took the risk! Never mind that you didn't guard the Goblet of Fire well enough that it was allowed to be Confounded in the first place. As an adult, of course, you know better! Of course, you are perfectly fine with allowing a barely fifteen year old girl to compete in a Death Tournament against her will!"

Silence reigned as she stalked ever closer to him until she was directly in front of him once more, glaring up at him.

"What would you have done if it had been Cedric tied to that grave stone?" She demanded, and though her voice was low, it rumbled through the crowd with a dangerous edge to it, like thunder almost. "What would you have told his father if he'd died there?"

"Potter."

The voice that had been trying to reach her now finally breaking through her anger. She turned to glare at the intruder, only to see it was Professor Snape and Tony standing side by side. Both of them were looking at her with a mix of emotions she couldn't break down at the moment. A wave of fatigue came over her then, as the anger and the energy it had temporarily given her vanished. She'd never meant to reveal so much to so many people, and now she couldn't take it back.

"The memory. I have the memory." She trudged on, a bit more subdued, returning to the matter of Pettigrew.

"I'll collect it, Potter." Snape nodded in understanding, giving a vial to Shaklebolt's partner when he was done putting the strange silver thread fluid into it.

"He had masks and robes floating about, like fake Death Eaters." Hera continued to report.

"She needs to go to the Hospital Wing." A new voice, the voice, and Hera ducked her head to hide a smirk. "Come on now."

...

This man was not going to stop, and she very much doubted that they were going to the hospital wing, so Hera deployed what she liked to call 'Get Help'. The second she dead drops, the man grunted with the sudden weight. She'd expected him to just float her to wherever he planned to go, Moody's office most likely. Instead, he kept half carrying/half dragging her, as if he'd forgotten he was a wizard! She could only hope that someone noticed soon.

"Here, drink this." The man insisted, forcing something pepper tasting down her throat, once he'd managed to get her sitting down somewhere.

Get Help would only get one so far, it seemed. Hera realized she had another problem though. The pepperup had been spiked with Veritaserum. She felt the effects of it wash over her as a calm serene feeling. This was going to be a problem if she couldn't control it. Professor Snape had planned to train her in that next year, but he'd taught her to recognize the signs already.

"What happened, Harry?" Moody asked, sounding concerned.

She could work with that. As she was not 'Harry', and he wasn't someone she had designated as having permission to call her that, she didn't feel compelled to answer.

"Hera Potter, what happened?" He repeated, perhaps realizing his error.

She could work with that too, and began to go over the events of the day; starting with breakfast.

"What happened after the trophy portkey activated the first time, Potter?" It sounded like someone was getting tetchy, but she could work with this too. He hadn't said to tell him everything, after all.

"Took me to a graveyard…Pettigrew…tried to bring him back…made a potion…Death Eater at Hogwarts…put my name in…"

He waited, as if sensing there was more that needed to be said. She locked eyes with him, allowing a smirk to play across her face before she continued.

"…I know who it is."

There was a moment, as if both were absorbing what she'd said. One of them blinked, and then he made to attack her. There was a bright flash as a well placed stupify from someone, Dumbledore by the sounds of it, stopped the impostor cold. 'Moody' was thrown backward into the room, and quickly bound by conjured ropes. Hera was immediately surrounded by Tony and Professor Snape, as a concerned Professor McGonagall split her time in between keeping an eye on Hera and guarding the door.

"Her eyes look absolutely blown." Tony noted as he tried to get her to react by squeezing her hand in comfort, concern laced through his voice. "What did he drug her with?"

"Veritaserum…" She tried to tell them, unable to react to Tony in any other way as she was. "in the Pepper-Up…couldn't stop him."

The smirk had been as much a part of the answer for Moody as the words had been, but Tony was offering comfort for comforts sake, and Veritaserum didn't allow for that.

"Veritaserum is a potion that renders one incapable of saying anything but the truth as they know it. Three drops is enough to have even the Dark Lord spilling his innermost secrets." Snape confirmed, already getting a vial from one of his many pockets. "Drink this, Potter, it's the antidote."

"You just…carry one of these on you?" Tony asked, looking at the professor as if he'd grown a second head.

"In my profession, you learn to carry the antidote to everything on you at all times." Professor Snape replied, as he helped Hera to drink the potion. "I am surrounded by dunderheaded children for most of the day. It's an occupational hazard that one of them is going to poison themselves with something."

"Thanks, Professor." Hera sighed gratefully, coming back to herself, now finally able to respond to Tony, and then seeing the man behind them. "Who's that?"

"I don't…Barty Crouch?!" Professor Snape exclaimed, shock clearly throwing his normal calm to the winds. "No, that's his son. Wait…Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"Is it weird that he looks like David Tennant?" Tony asks, absentmindedly.

"I don't know who that is, Tony." Hera pointed out, and he looked askance.

"But he's you're countryman!" Tony insisted, as if insulted.

"We don't all know each other." She snorted. "Is he supposed to be famous?"

"Is he supposed to be famous, she asks." Tony mumbled, in mock offense. "We are watching so much BBC later."

"Come along, Potter." Professor McGonagall nudged, helping her up. "Let's get you to the hospital wing for real this time."

"No, Minerva. She needs to understand what's happened." Dumbledore insisted, even as he opened the trunk. "Only with understanding can there be acceptance, and with acceptance recovery."

"Not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, Professor, but I'm not going to understand anything as I am." Hera replied, leaning slightly into the 'Get Help' persona, though not much of that was pretend anymore. "Understanding can come after sleep, and enough food to feed an army…and maybe some pumpkin juice, and some chocolate. Is it possible to eat while I'm sleeping? That would be great. Someone should get to work on that. Tony, you're an inventor, right? Might want to get started."