oooOOOoooOOOooo Chapter 11
The days passed by. Harry, Gabrielle, and Hermione grew closer to one another. Bill Weasley was an almost constant presence at the school. He was supposedly helping his brothers with the competition, though he spent most of his time with Fleur.
Padfoot was around more often than not. He and Remus had hidden their trunks in the shrieking shack in Hogsmeade, so they would be close by in case Harry had an emergency with the twins or with the competition. Just when Harry thought the situation couldn't become anymore stressful, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor stepped in.
"You, Potter. Come up here," called Mad Eye Moody during class one day. "We're going to do a demonstration. Here, hold these." The professor gave Harry an anticipatory smile as he handed Harry a handful of stunned spiders.
The professor grabbed one of the spiders out of Harry's hand. He cast a spell to renervate the unconscious spider. He threw it on the desk and cast imperio. The spider twirled and danced across the desk, while Moody grinned at Harry.
"What spell is this?" he asked.
Several students raised their hands. "You, Malfoy. I'm sure your father knows this one. What is it?"
Malfoy's face turned red but he answered anyway. "The imperius curse. It takes the victim's free will away."
"Correct," Moody said. He cast another spell on the spider. This time it screamed. The spider writhed around on the desk. All of the students' eyes were glued to the macabre sight. Moody's eyes were glued to one of the students. He ended the spell.
"Longbottom. What spell was that?" Moody boomed.
Neville had to swallow a few times before he could answer. "Cruciatus," he finally whispered. Moody stared at him for a moment.
"The cruciatus causes immense pain in every nerve ending of the body. If left on a victim for too long, they'll either go insane or die," said the callous professor.
He grabbed another spider, woke it up, and cast the final spell.
"Avada kedavra!" he hissed. A violently green light sailed out of Moody's wand and hit the spider. It fell dead instantaneously.
"Potter. What was that one?" he asked, grinning again. Harry looked angry. How dare this man.
"The killing curse. The name is self-evident," said Harry through gritted teeth.
Moody laughed and turned back to the class. "Today, we'll be seeing which of you can fight off the imperius curse. I have permission from Dumbledore to cast it on the lot of you," Moody said with a downright sadistic grin on his face.
"No," Harry said, firmly.
Moody blinked. The blinks were out of sync. It was disconcerting.
"What was that boy? I'm afraid you don't have a choice. I'll be casting that spell on each and every one of you," Moody growled.
Harry turned and started walking for the classroom door. He didn't even stop to gather his belongings first, he just walked towards the door.
"Imperio!" shouted a voice behind him. Harry ducked and rolled. The spell hit the classroom door with a dull thud. Harry rolled behind a student desk and pulled out his wand.
"You won't escape me, boy. I'll get each and every one of you, you especially," Moody shouted. He shot spells at the desk and the floor where he expected Harry to roll next. Harry ran forward, under the chairs, his small stature working in his favor. He jumped up and shot a stunning spell at the professor, then dropped back down and rolled behind the next row of desks.
Moody sent a blasting hex at the desk in front of Harry, causing it to explode, leaving a large black spot behind. He cackled madly while he cast, Harry shuffled backwards and back over to the row he'd just come from. The other students screamed and scrambled to get out of the classroom. Moody didn't even attempt to stop them.
Moody cast another blasting hex at the desk next to Harry. Harry threw his hands over his head to stop the splinters from hitting his face. He jumped up and cast two more stunners before hurrying forwards a few desks. Moody had to jump to avoid the spells. He lost track of Harry for a moment.
"Come out, Potter. I'll make you pay!" shouted the wizard, madly. He cast a flame throwing curse into the room. The kindling that the blasted desks had become roared to life.
"Professor! Stop!" Hermione shouted, terrified. Moody shook himself like he was coming out of a haze. He looked around at the destruction he had caused with a look of dismay on his face. Harry didn't waste any time. He rolled on the floor and shot a spell at the man's gaping mouth. He went down like a sack of bricks.
"What is going on here?" shouted McGonagall. Someone had gathered her from her classroom on the floor below.
"Professor Moody attacked Harry! He said he was going to cast the imperius curse on all of us! Harry said no and tried to leave. Professor Moody shot the spell at Harry's back but when he missed, he just went crazy!" sobbed Lavender Brown from where she'd been hiding, under her desk at the back of the classroom. She was lucky she hadn't been killed.
McGonagall quickly put out the flames and demanded all the students leave the classroom. She did a quick roll call in the hallway. Most of the students were present. She quickly sent the ghosts to find the missing ones. McGonagall checked the classroom one more time. She reapplied the stunning charm to Moody and floated him out into the hallway.
"Go, get the headmaster and call the aurors," she said to Hermione, the only student she felt she could trust to see it done. Hermione nodded and ran.
The headmaster arrived in just a few minutes, being trailed by Hermione, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and two other aurors. Professor McGonagall filled him in on what happened, just as she finished speaking, Moody's skin began to bubble.
"What in the world?" cried McGonagall, staring at the melting professor. He quickly coalesced into another person.
"Barty Crouch, Jr.," said Albus, grimly.
Kingsley sent a patronus spell off. "I called for Madame Bones. She'll be along shortly. In the meantime, let's get him somewhere secure," said Kingsley, reapplying the stunning charm himself.
McGonagall insisted that Harry come with the adults. Hermione refused to leave his side, a mulish expression on her face. McGonagall didn't even try to refuse her, she just led them to the headmaster's office.
They settled in chairs, around the headmaster's desk. Barty was tied to his chair, from head to foot. He was searched thoroughly. Three portkeys and a bottle of polyjuice potion was found on his person.
Madame Bones and four aurors arrived as they finished emptying Barty's pockets.
"Report," she demanded and she entered the scene. Shacklebolt gave her the rundown of what he knew so far. She nodded.
"How do you know this is Barty Crouch, Junior? He's supposed to be dead," she asked Dumbledore.
"I would know one of my lost sheep from anywhere," said the old man, gravely.
"I also recognize him. He has distinctive features," said Professor McGonagall.
Madame Bones examined the flask of potion. She turned to the two other aurors in the room.
"Search his office. See if there are any signs of the real Moody. He's got to be close if this guy is making enough fresh polyjuice to last all day," Madame Bones said. The two other aurors left the room.
She woke the man up. He looked around and started cackling.
"You won't get anything from me. Imma be silent as a flea," Barty sang.
Madame Bones raised her eyebrow. "Who are you?"
"I'm not telling," he sang. She hit him with a spell. He was out like a light in just a moment.
"Got your investigator's kit?" she asked. Shacklebolt took a small box out of a pouch on his belt. He enlarged it and opened it. It was full of potions. He took a clear vial of potion out of the box and handed it to Madame Bones.
"Start the record," she said. Tonks took out a dictaquill and a roll of parchment. She winked at Harry.
"Ready," he said. She nodded again.
"Madame Amelia Bones questioner. Date Thursday, November 17, 1994. Subject Unknown and Uncooperative."
She cast the spell to wake the prisoner up one more time.
"Who are you?" asked Madame Bones.
The voice cackled. "I am you and you are me and we are we and we are all together!" he sang.
She cast a body bind spell on the man. Barty snapped into a frozen position. Madame Bones stepped forward and administered the veritaserum. His eyes rolled madly but he couldn't resist. Madame Bones unfroze him.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
"Bartemius Nigellus Crouch Junior," he said in a bland voice.
"How did you escape Azkaban and fake your own death?" Madame Bones asked.
"My father exchanged myself for my dying mother. She stayed under polyjuice potion and died in prison. He took me home and kept me under the imperius curse," Barty said. Madame Bones and Shacklebolt exchanged a glance.
"When did this happen?" Madame Bones asked.
"April 7, 1983," said Barty. "I escaped my father at the World Cup."
"He took you to the World Cup?" asked Madame Bones, in disbelief. Barty had seats in the Minister's box, for goodness sakes.
"Yes," answered the calm Barty.
"Why are you impersonating Mad-Eye Moody?" asked Madame Bones.
Barty struggled not to answer. "My master ordered me to do so."
"Who is your master?"
"Lord Voldemort," answered Barty with reverence in his voice.
"Where is he?" asked Madame Bones, shocked.
Barty cackled. "I can't tell you. He's under a fidelius," the sing-song tone had reentered his voice just a touch.
"What is his plan?" Madame Bones asked.
Barty struggled not to answer. "To put Potter in the tournament. To …" he struggled harder. A sick chomping sound was heard then blood began to pour out of Barty's mouth. He had bitten his tongue off and swallowed it.
Harry jumped back, trying to stay out of the spray of blood. Barty was laughing wildly and spewing blood out of his mouth.
Madame Bones stunned him again.
"Take him to Mungo's. Regrow his tongue, then, come get me," said Amelia, seriously. Shakcklebolt left immediately.
A moment later, the other two aurors arrived, Mad-Eye Moody floating between them.
"We found him locked in his own trunk. He's bad off. We'd best take him to Mungo's," said the auror.
"Go on," said Madame Bones. Shacklebolt reappeared.
"I've got him under guard at Mungo's. They're working on pumping his stomach to get it back. Then, they're going to reattach it. They said he won't be able to talk until tomorrow."
Madame Bones nodded then turned to Harry. "Mind to tell us what happened?"
Harry explained the whole sorry tale.
"Then, I finally stunned him. He almost got me," Harry said, holding up his arms to show the splinters embedded in his forearm. McGonagall started casting spells to heal his arms.
Madame Bones finished recording his statement. "Anything else to add?" she asked.
"Not that I can think of. Do you think he's right? Is Voldemort out there? Did he order me to be added to this psychotic tournament?" Harry asked, his voice getting angrier, the longer he spoke.
"I can't say, Mr. Potter. I can only promise I'll investigate," Madame Bones said.
"Well, you might want to investigate why Voldemort has shown up in this school twice already to torment me," said Harry, viciously. He was tired of being pushed around by that maniac! Voldemort could kiss Harry's bum. Harry suddenly went cold. What if Voldemort found out about his babies? He would, wouldn't he?
"I can't deal with this right now! I've got babies. Oh gods! What if that wanker gets his hands on my kids? What will I do then?" Harry said, grabbing his hair in dismay.
"What do you mean, you've got babies?" asked Madame Bones, warily.
Harry didn't say anything so Hermione did. "Harry has got a set of twin sons. They're almost three months old now," Hermione said, calmly.
Madame Bone's eyebrows went up into her hair. "Who's the lucky mother?"
"Harry used a surrogate," Hermione said, primly.
Madame Bones looked at Harry. He looked back at her defiantly. She just shook her head.
"Now, tell me about these two other incidents with Voldemort?" she said, sternly. Harry happily complied. Madame Bones gave Dumbledore the stink-eye the entire time.
"I shall return with my investigative squad to further look into these claims, Mr. Potter," she turned a wicked eye on Dumbledore. "I'll be back to speak with you as well, Headmaster. I am very surprised this is the first I've heard of these matters. I'll want to know why."
Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his face with his blackened hand. The black had spread up to halfway up his forearm.
"This is another unexpected happenstance to care for," Dumbledore said, holding up his arm. He turned to look at Harry and Hermione. McGonagall was watching him with a concerned look.
"We have much to discuss. Please. Stay. I have a few things to share with you," Dumbledore said, with a weary sigh.
Harry looked questioningly at the headmaster but he didn't move. McGonagall went to make sure no one was listening. She returned and took a seat. Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head at her. He looked back at Harry.
"Harry, my boy. It's been many years since the beginning of the fight against Tom Riddle began. I fear that my first battle with him was a complete failure on my part. I failed to recognise the danger he would become. I failed to turn him back to the light. Come, let us see," Dumbledore said, pulling a strange round bowl with runic carvings covering every inch of it. Harry gasped when the headmaster put a wand to his own forehead and appeared to draw something out. The silvery strand floated down like a wisp on the wind. It filled the water-like substance inside the bowl with a strange glow.
"What's that?" Hermione asked, curious.
"This? It's a pensieve. Pensieves are rare magical devices that allow the user to view the memories of themselves or others. It's quite handy. It brings forth all the subconscious mind remembers, rather than only what was understood by the conscious mind at the time," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Lean forward, like so, and join me."
Dumbledore leaned forward until his face touched the surface of the water. He suddenly disappeared. Harry gasped and looked at Professor McGonagall and Hermione.
"Go on. Don't keep the headmaster waiting," instructed Madame Bones. Harry followed Dumbledore's example and submerged his face in the wispy not quite liquid that filled the bowl. He felt like he flipped head-over-heels into some hidden depth inside the bowl. He landed on his feet with a gasp.
Dumbledore reached out to steady Harry. Hermione, Madame Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, a pink-haired auror who had yet to be introduced, and then McGonagall, joined them just a moment later.
"This is the orphanage where Tom Marvolo Riddle was raised. That dapper gentleman is yours truly. Let's follow him," said the Headmaster. They followed a younger Dumbledore into the derelict building. They went up a set of rickety stairs and found themselves in a bare room with just a bed, side table, and wardrobe. Nothing else filled the room. No other personal effects or sentimental belongings of any kind.
A gaunt looking young boy sat on the narrow bed. He watched the headmaster warily.
They watched the boy's arrogance and defiance. They saw him set fire to the wardrobe and put it out again, with nary a mark on the wood. They couldn't help but wince when Dumbledore responded sternly to the boy, rather than empathetically. The boy shut down. It was easy to see in that very moment that Dumbledore had made an enemy out of Tom Riddle.
They came back out into the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his head. "You see, Harry. By the time I met him, Tom Riddle had already started down the path of the dark. He was filled with malice, hate, and raw power. It was a volatile combination. Let's take another look at the young Tom Riddle. This memory was after what I believe to be his first murder. If I am correct, his second set of murders occurred the summer after this incident. Let's watch," Dumbledore said.
They went back into the pensieve. A young Tom Riddle stood before a strange man and the young Dumbledore. He wore a prefect badge on his chest and a haughty air in his faux respectful demeanor.
"I caught Rubeus Hagrid here at the scene of the crime, headmaster," said the young Tom Riddle. The young Albus Dumbledore looked at him suspiciously.
"How convenient. Rubeus states that someone left him a note to meet them here at this time. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Tom?" Dumbledore asked.
Riddle looked back calmly but there was a glitter of hatred in his eyes.
"Come now, Professor Dumbledore. Tom is a fine, upstanding young pureblood. He wouldn't lie. That Hagrid fellow on the other hand. He's just not the right sort to be at Hogwarts. Hagrid always has those strange, dangerous animals around. It's got to be him. An accident, I'm sure, but that won't matter to the school board. No, he'll have to be expelled since a student died. This ties it all up nicely," said Headmaster Dippett, with a smile and spring in his step. He didn't honestly care if the little mixed race boy was guilty or not. He just wanted to be able to put a bow on the situation.
"I think that the truth is always preferable to a pretty lie," said Dumbledore, looking at Tom over his glasses.
"Yes, yes. The truth. I think we've found all the truth we'll need. Hagrid will need to be expelled. Call the boy up to my office," said Headmaster Dippett, putting his arm around Tom. "You come up to my office, as well, Tom, my boy. I think this calls for an award for Special Services to the School," said Headmaster Dippett. Tom looked over his shoulder at Dumbledore with a look of successful malice. Tom had won this round.
They soon found themselves back in the Headmaster's office. "The summer after this, Tom's muggle family was found dead from the Killing Curse."
"His favorite curse," muttered Harry. Hermione took his hand in support.
"Quite. His magical uncle was found guilty of the crime. Morfin Gaunt was sent to Azkaban. He died in prison," said Dumbledore.
"You think Tom Riddle committed this murder, Headmaster?" asked Madame Bones.
"I do. Tom laid low for the remainder of his Hogwarts career. The next time I saw him was after he had graduated from Hogwarts. He came to ask me for a job. Let's watch," said Dumbledore, tiredly.
The group went back into the pensieve. A young man in his mid-twenties with red rimmed irises stared arrogantly back at what was now Headmaster Dumbledore.
"You'd like to be considered for the position of instructor of Defense Against the Dark Arts?" asked Dumbledore with a mildly surprised tone. His emphasis on the word "against" wasn't missed by Tom.
"That's right, Professor. I'd like to join the vaunted ranks of Hogwarts professors. I would be glad to show you my experiences gained with the Dark Arts. And the defense against, of course," said Tom with a slight smirk. Dumbledore stared at Tom over his glasses.
"I think I can see how far down that road you've gone already. No, we will be going another direction for the professor. While I appreciate your interest in the position, I think you are ineligible for consideration at this time. Do you need an escort or can you see yourself out?" Dumbledore said, with finality.
Tom Riddle's smirk deepened but his eyes practically burned with his fury. The red of his eyes intensified.
"I can see myself out. Thank you for your time and consideration, Professor Dumbledore. It's been a pleasure, as always," said Tom, snidely, as he rose from his chair. He whirled and turned his back firmly on Dumbledore. He began to walk from the room.
"It's not too late to change, Tom. You can still make other choices," said Dumbledore, gently.
Tom Riddle stiffened and froze in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at Dumbledore.
"My path is my own to choose," he said, quietly with anger and power in his voice. Dumbledore just shook his head at the young man.
"Indeed, it always has been," said Dumbledore quietly in return. The memory ended and the group found themselves back in Dumbledore's office.
Everyone was quiet for a few minutes.
"He was already too far gone to help by that point, professor," said Hermione, quietly. "He had already torn his soul."
Dumbledore's head dropped. He let out an exhausted sigh.
"I hear the truth of your words, yet my heart is deaf to their wisdom," said Dumbledore. "By the time I next saw Tom, he was the monster you know today. He had assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort and had begun his bid to claim power over the Wizarding World."
"How does he keep evading death? What aren't you telling us?" Harry demanded. He was frustrated that the Headmaster was taking this circuitous route to tell them what was going on. Harry didn't need a lesson in logic. He needed answers.
Dumbledore winced at Harry's questions. He glanced down at his blackened hand and knew it was time.
"The evil Tom has inflicted upon the world is called a horcrux," Dumbledore said. Madame Bones cursed. Dumbledore continued. "Ms. Granger used the proper terminology when she said Tom had already torn his soul. That's exactly what a coldblooded murder does; it rends the soul of the murderer. It's a splintering that is never truly healed. Tom coupled the splintering of his soul with certain dark magic rituals that allowed a piece of his shattered soul to be housed in a corporeal object. That is why he cannot die. He has anchored himself to this plane of existence," said Dumbledore, regretting his words even as he spoke them. He had kept this horrible secret to himself for two long years.
"Is there anything that can be done?" asked Hermionel in dismay.
At the same time, Professor McGonagall exclaimed, "Say it isn't so!"
Harry sat quietly, the inner storm building inside him.
"I'm afraid it is the case, Minerva. Tom has plumbed the depths of darkness to keep himself alive and in power. There is something that can be done, Ms. Granger. We can hunt these abominations and return Tom to his mortality," said Dumbledore, regaining his confidence.
"How many are there?" Madame Bones asked. "Do you know where they are?"
"I expect there are seven. I know of at least four of the items right now and I highly doubt it is the correct amount. Tom would choose a number with magical significance and seven is the most sacred number in most soul magics," said Dumbledore.
"We know where one of these horcrux things is located, don't we?" asked Harry in a menacing voice. "How long have you known?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry in anguish. Harry gently touched his scar. He exploded from his seat and started pacing.
"What needs to be done to get rid of it? Is it even possible?" Harry ranted.
Dumbledore practically cowered in his seat. He deserved this boy's rage. Just when he had so much to live for, this happens.
"What are you talking about? Harry?" Hermione demanded. She jumped up and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. He refused to look her in the eyes. His precious sons were all he could think about. They would be orphans, just like him.
"Tell her," Harry hissed at Dumbledore over his shoulder.
"Tell me what?" Hermione demanded, frustrated.
Silence reigned in the room. Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to say it. A few minutes passed with everyone trapped in tableaux.
"I'm a horcrux," Harry said, in an angry whisper.