They'd seen the sparks. It was hard not to with the dark sky making them appear even brighter. That had been a short while ago, with nothing happening since. The band still played and the crowd still cheered, but nothing had come from the distress signal. Matthew was watching those in charge with keen interest, instead of focusing on the spectacle unfolding. They seemed just as confused as he was, conversing in hushed tones. Their grave expressions told a story that everyone else seemed to be ignoring, barring those who had a personal connection to the champions in question.

The first true feeling of alarm he felt was when he spotted McGonagall rushing over towards Dumbledore, panic clearly etched onto her face. She looked as if she were speaking in rushed breaths, in a state of anxiety that rarely befell their Head of House. If she were worried to such an extent, then whatever was arising was serious. It was a sense of dread that washed over Matthew as he saw the headmaster's face fall at her words. There would only be a competitor that would prompt that sort of reaction from the old man. Matthew's gaze fell to Sirius and Remus, who appeared to be following the same line of thought, choosing to walk over to the professors.

If his friends were involved, as it now seemed, then Matthew wasn't going to be left out. He stood up, planning on joining the emergency meeting that had formed just in front of the stands. But his progress was swiftly cut short by a hand wrapping around his wrist. He glanced down, finding Katherine looking at him in panic. Everything there was new to Hermione's parents, already leaving them on edge. Witnessing those more comfortable in these surroundings quickly get consumed by worry was enough to send them over the edge. Katherine's nails dug into his skin painfully but he didn't ask her to let go.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him, though it sounded as if she already knew what the answer would be.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Matthew replied, realising it was now up to him to keep them calm. It was an unusual situation for a child to be comforting an adult, but this was no typical event.

"But…those red sparks…they're used when someone's in danger, right? Like a flare."

"I think so, yeah." He knew so but he wanted to instil a bit of faith in all of them.

"Is Hermione in danger?" Peter asked, asking the question that his wife couldn't voice.

"I can't tell you one way or the other." He looked pleadingly at the two of them. "Which is why I need to go. Just for a few moments."

"Matthew…" Katherine whispered. "Whatever's going on…don't keep it from us, okay? I'd rather know than be left in the dark."

"I promise."

He moved rapidly down the steps, barely stopping as his feet landed on the soft grass of the quidditch pitch. The group of people had grown during his short conversation with the Grangers. Moody was there now, along with Hagrid. Bagman was hovering around the outskirts of the circle, though Crouch was nowhere to be seen. Matthew marched confidently towards them, wand in hand in preparation. Dumbledore noticed his imminent arrival; Matthew almost expected the headmaster to beckon him away, but no such rebuttal was forthcoming.

McGonagall, however, was not so lenient when she spotted him. "No. Mister Mormont, I advise you to go and sit back down. This is a delicate matter that doesn't require your input."

"It's Harry and Hermione, isn't it?" he asked, choosing to ignore her.

The old Scot didn't appear to appreciate his lack of acknowledgement. "We won't be handing out information to students, Mister Mormont."

"Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly. "I think it's best if we simply allow Mister Mormont to hear the present situation. I doubt there's any way of turning him away now."

"How can you be so calm right now?" Sirius barked angrily. He'd never gotten on well with the headmaster, and it seemed the circumstances of their current alliance weren't going to help with that either.

"I've found that panicked minds will fail one's self in a time of grave concern. We need to think rationally and tactically if we are to answer our most pressing concerns."

Matthew folded his arms, feeling as if there was a great deal of detail he was missing out on. "Which is?"

"Potter and Granger have gone missing," Moody explained bluntly. "They're the ones who sent up the red sparks but, by the time that anyone could reach that part of the maze, they were nowhere to be seen."

"I was the one who was supposed to get them," Hagrid told him, sobbing through each word. "I wasn't quick enough! I've failed them!" He blew his nose into a large handkerchief, which looked to have already been getting a lot of use.

"Nonsense, dear Hagrid," Dumbledore assured the half-giant. "I think we can safely assume that none of this is your fault."

"Couldn't they just have decided to carry on," Matthew suggested. "They could be in another part of the maze from where the sparks went up. If they were getting attacked by something, then the smartest option would have been to run away to a safer spot."

"A logical conclusion but one that is correct all the same. We've sent in multiple people to find them and have so far come up empty-handed."

Matthew patted his pockets, feeling the outline of the parchment stored within. "Then there's a good job I've got a way of finding out for sure." He pulled out the Marauders Map, noticing how Lupin's eyes lit up in realisation. With his wand tip placed on the paper, he muttered the incantation. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

Moody leaned over his shoulder, watching as the ink sprawled and formed an outline of the school. "Merlin's beard! What's this?"

"Something that might have helped you with your security measures," Lupin explained, giving Matthew the time he needed to scan the map.

His finger hovered over the quidditch pitch, where a mass assortment of names were floating. It would have made it impossible to find anyone in particular if their targets hadn't been separated from everyone else. Matthew could see the other Champions, all in various different parts of the maze, all oblivious to what was going on. But the people he desperately wanted to spot weren't visible.

"They're not here," he said, his hands beginning to shake. "They're no longer on Hogwarts grounds. They'd show up otherwise."

Hagrid began to sob louder. "I should have been quicker!"

Sirius ran his hands over his weary face. "They've both been taken."

"I think it's safe to assume that," Dumbledore agreed. "Though we're at a loss as to who has kidnapped them."

"Kidnap?!"

They hadn't paid attention to the two people tentatively walking towards them, so engrossed they'd been in their conversation. Katherine was already crying, her hand covering her mouth after her screeched exclamation. Her shout had been so loud that it even exceeded the noise from the band, some of the crowd now looking in their direction. Peter was by her side, holding her close to him. It was the only thing stopping her from launching herself at any member of the party.

Dumbledore held up his hands, looking to comfort them. "Mister and Mrs Granger…it's true that your daughter, along with her friend Harry, are currently out of the realms of our supervision. Let me tell you that we're doing our most to figure out a solution."

"This is all your fault!" Hermione's mum shouted. "You knew that this was dangerous and you still allowed them to compete! Hermione should never have been put in this position!"

The headmaster appeared perfectly fine with her raising her voice at him, something that most wizards and witches would never have dreamed of doing. "That's something I strongly agree with you on. And I hope you remember that I allowed both students to attempt to not take part, only for the binding magical contract to force them to. But whatever has happened here tonight has nothing to do with the tournament itself."

Peter frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Someone put their names into the goblet," Matthew said, seeing where Dumbledore was going with this. "Someone wanted them to get to this point, knowing that they'd have to compete one way or another. So it stands to reason that the same person is behind their disappearance."

"And…do you know who this person is?" Katherine asked, looking at Matthew more than the headmaster now.

"Not specifically. No one good, that's for sure."

"Can you bring them back?"

"We don't have enough information," Lupin admitted. "We don't know who's behind the attack and we don't know where they've gone. They could be in any part of the country. Or any part of the world, for that matter."

Sirius saw fresh tears appearing in the woman's eyes. "That's not helping, Remus."

"I felt that only the truth will help us now. Holding onto false hope serves nobody besides those seeking to harm Harry and Hermione."

"He's right," Katherine said. "I don't want this sugar coating. But it sounds as if you can't do anything to help them."

"That's not strictly true," Matthew said, raising their hopes once more. "We can track their magical signatures."

"It's impossible," Moody grumbled. "Otherwise the Ministry would catch every criminal it ever set its sights on."

"They don't have what I do. I've done it before, during the first task. And when Harry went wandering at the end of last year before getting captured by Sirius."

The man in question held up his hands. "I'd like to remind everyone that I didn't actually capture him. It was one big misunderstanding."

"We can worry about those semantics once we've saved Harry and Hermione. The only issue is that the Tardis isn't on Hogwarts grounds anymore. I moved it from the castle after Skeeter started snooping around. It'll take too long to get to it. I can't apparate thanks to the wards around the school."

"But I can," Dumbledore told him. "Call it a perk of being headmaster. I'll be able to apparate the both of us to where you've left the Tardis, and then we can see about tracking the two of them down."

"Then I think this might actually work."

"You're not going alone," Sirius said as he stepped forward. "Frankly, I'm Harry's guardian so I need to be going with you. And I don't think you'll be able to convince Remus not to go."

"That's very true," the werewolf agreed. "If this is as serious as we think, then you're going to need as many wands as you can get."

"If there's a fight to be had, then you can count me in too," Moody added, brokering no argument. "I'm supposed to be the head of security for this blasted tournament, so I've let those kids down. I wasn't vigilant enough. I want to make it up to them by killing whichever idiot was stupid enough to go after them."

"Even with my abundance of power, I don't think I'll be able to carry you all with me," Dumbledore admitted. "Especially if the Tardis is parked some distance away."

"We can just pick them up on the way once we have it," Matthew suggested rationally. Dumbledore nodded his head in acceptance.

"Do you really believe it's necessary to be involving a student in this, Albus?" McGonagall argued. "I've already lost two of my lions tonight. I don't want another to be added to the list. You must already have some inkling as to who's behind this targeted attack. It's not the place to be bringing children into the equation."

Matthew puffed out his chest in indignation. "I'm the only one who can pilot the Tardis!"

"And am I supposed to understand what that means?"

"You will very shortly. Professor…you know about my…talents by now. No one is going to stand in my way from getting them back, mark my words. And that includes you."

Sirius leaned into Lupin's ear. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone stand up to her like that."

"He's a braver man than us," his friend replied.

"We're coming too," Katherin said, crossing her arms. "It's our daughter that's in danger. And we've been in the Tardis before, so that's not going to shock us. Well, as much as it might have done."

"You'll get in the way," Matthew pointed out. "We need to focus on Harry and Hermione, whereas we'd be preoccupied with protecting you if you were there too. Not to mention that, if things go wrong, your presence would be another thing they could use against Hermione. No…please stay here. You just need to trust me that I'll do everything in my power to save her. That's what loving someone means."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud. It was a consequence of his emotions going haywire, the rush of adrenaline overpowering his mind. He didn't want to take it back, per se. He couldn't deny the way he felt and he didn't really want to. He just wished that the first time he'd admitted it hadn't come in front of her parents, instead of the girl herself. For what it was worth, Katherine didn't appear surprised in the slightest, smiling softly at him.

She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "Bring them back to us. If anything, just so you can tell her that yourself."

"Mister Mormont…" Dumbledore said, holding out his arm. "I believe time is of the essence."

"Right…yeah. If that's the case, start calling me Matthew. Just to make things easier."

"If you wish…Matthew." The headmaster's gaze turned to his deputy. "Minerva, I'm going to need you to remain here so that the situation is kept as calm as can be. For all we know, this could be some form of distraction, leaving this part of the school undefended once we leave. If I have faith in anyone's ability to manage such a difficult situation, then it's you."

"Certainly, Albus," she replied. "But what do you want doing with the tournament? It almost feels like a sideshow now."

"I think it's best to remove the other champions promptly. Whilst they're still in the maze and out of sight, they're in danger. As we've already seen tonight."

"But you can't!" Bagman complained. "All the months of planning…just to throw it away at the last moment! It's almost over with!"

Katherine stepped dangerously close to the Ministry official. "I don't know who you are but you're in dangerous territory if you're putting this stupid event above the lives of my daughter and another student. Are you behind the decision to keep them in the tournament? Because my lawyers would leave to hear your confession…"

Despite the fact that she had no magical powers, Bagman gulped loudly as she stared him down. The former quidditch player was no slight figure, towering over the woman. And yet it felt as if the roles were reversed, Bagman wilting under her glare. Peter stood confidently behind his wife, knowing that she didn't need any backup at the moment. If Bagman said the wrong thing, she would destroy him with no need of any spell.

"Well…it was truly Mister Crouch's prerogative to keep all selected champions in the tournament," he said with a trembling voice.

"Interesting," Sirius muttered. "And where is your boss right now as everything goes up in flames?"

Matthew's eyes widened, turning to Dumbledore. "Headmaster…we really need to be going now."

xxxxxxxxxx

Harry attempted to fight against his bonds but it felt like the more he struggled, the tighter they became. All he wanted to do was get out of there, to grab Hermione and leave this nightmare. Maybe he would wake up at any moment, in the safety of his bed. He'd just experienced a mirage of reality within the maze, a fabricated Hermione deceiving him. It was possible that the situation now was just like that, another stage of the task that had taken a dark turn. But, try as he might, Harry was unable to cling onto those hopes. The pain in his head was too real to be a dream.

He watched the twisted figure in front of him, prowling around the courtyard. Voldemort. After all those years, after the desperate attempts to return to form…he had finally succeeded. He seemed to be testing out his new limbs as he walked, gliding across the grass as his black robe billowed behind him. Every step sent a pang of discomfort through Harry's skull. He could tell that Voldemort was enjoying every movement, because that was the source of Harry's agony now. When the Dark Lord was happy, that was always going to be bad news for him.

Somehow, his focus wasn't just on the two figures in front of him. Harry kept trying to crane his neck to see if Hermione had moved since the attack. There was no sign of any change, her head lolling forward ominously. The only thing that was comforting him was that the ropes around her would have made any movement practically impossible, so he hoped that was the reason for her lack of activity. The other option simply wasn't conceivable. All he wanted was to see her eyes drift open; he knew that would give him the strength to get out of this.

"Bartemius," he heard Voldemort murmur, approaching the slumped form of his servant.

The man was a bundle on the ground, whimpering strangely as he clutched the wrist where his hand had been just a few moments ago. Harry could still hear the noise the appendage had made when it landed into the simmering cauldron. The cloak he was wearing still covered his face from view but the name struck a chord with Harry. It couldn't be. It surely couldn't be him.

"M…Master…" the man choked out, scrambling to kiss his master's feet. It wasn't the voice that Harry had been expecting.

"Stand," the dark wizard instructed softly. There was no need for him to raise his voice. The graveyard was silent, providing him with the perfect stage on which to perform.

The man did as ordered, wincing when he automatically wanted to use his fresh stump to push him up. "Master…I have done everything you wished. Everything worked as you planned."

"Yes, you have served me well, Bartemius. And it should be known that Lord Voldemort is a merciful man. Pass me my wand."

Bartemius lowered his hood first, finally showing his face to Harry. Again, it wasn't what he'd been expecting. The name had made him believe it could be Barty Crouch Senior (mainly because that was the only person he'd ever known to have such a weird name), but this person was much younger, and looked exceptionally more rabid. He held out his still intact hand, reverently presenting the wand. Voldemort took it swiftly, smiling as soon as he came into contact with it, as if it were sending a sense of warmth through his body. Harry doubted he could feel such a pleasant sensation.

"Give me your arm."

Voldemort snatched the limb with little care and Harry could tell it caused a lot of pain for the other man, though he wisely kept his complaints to himself. Harry watched as the wand began to glow and a hand began to form on the wound, the silvery substance glinting in the moonlight. The process must have been agony for Bartemius, for he fell to the ground once more. But, when he shifted once more, Harry could see that he had all his digits again, if not as flexible.

He must have been staring too openly, because Voldemort was soon looking at him with a smirk on his face. "Harry Potter…have you been introduced to my associate?" He didn't get a response, Harry refusing to give him the satisfaction. It at least had the effect of removing his smile. "I'm sure you've heard of Barty Crouch…Junior."

That did prompt a reaction from Harry, his eyes going wide. "But…but he died! He died in Azkaban!"

"A mere fabrication. His dear, sick mother replaced him in prison just before her death, removing them both from society. And that has made him very useful to my cause."

"My stupid father kept me alive," Barty explained. "Over the years, I thought it was a pointless existence. But then this plan arose, where I could finally use my father for my own purposes."

"But…he's been at Hogwarts all year! Barty Crouch! I've spoken to him!" Harry was desperately trying to fight against his constraints now, reconsidering everything that had happened over the past year.

"You were speaking to me."

"Oh, Harry Potter," Voldemort tutted. "From what I've heard, I expected better from you. Barty Crouch used a skilfully prepared polyjuice potion to pose as his father, granting him access to the school, granting him unbridled access to the tournament."

"And he was the one who entered my name into the goblet," Harry finished.

"As well as the person who brought you here tonight," Barty added. "When you chose to fire off a plea for help, it was something that had already been prepared for. A simple illusion of your friend had you doing everything he said, bringing you to the portkey…"

"And bringing you to me," Voldemort concluded triumphantly. "To be witness to my rebirth."

"I can understand why you'd want me here," Harry bravely said, trying to focus on one thing at a time. Otherwise his mind might collapse under the weight of it all. "But why Hermione? Why did you have to involve her?"

"Ah…the Muggle friend." Voldemort walked slowly towards him. "Should we wake her? Should we allow her to partake in this momentous occasion?"

Harry didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, the last thing he wanted was for her to be the centre of attention, and he was gravely regretting bringing her up in conversation. Yet the fact that she was able to be woken meant that she wasn't dead, something that filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy. She was okay, or at least as okay as she could be given the circumstances.

Hermione woke with a start as soon as Voldemort was pointing his wand at her. At the sight of him, she tried scrambling away, quickly realising that her limbs were tightly tied to the stone before her. The dark wizard leered close to her face and she flinched away, closing her eyes. It was the way his yellow teeth gleaned in her eye line that disgusted her the most, his breath rancid and stale. She had seen this face before, at least a spectral version in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, which meant she immediately knew who this was. She first looked for her friend, seeing him in the same predicament just in front of her.

"Harry!" she cried, out of relief more than anything.

"Look how she calls for you straight away," Voldemort murmured, leaving her to focus on Harry. "How…pathetic. Friendship…it has been your downfall up to this point. You touched the portkey because of an unyielding and inaccurate faith in your other friend. And you continued in the tournament because she was there as well. You are weak, Harry Potter. I want you to understand why you have lost today."

"We wanted to include the other one as well," Barty said. "The boy. But the goblet refused to cooperate."

"Silence, Bartemius!" Voldemort shouted. "Crucio!"

Barty was on the ground once again, writhing in agony as he screamed under the spell. Harry didn't know whether to feel sorry for the tortured person, realising that he had brought this fate upon himself. And he was the reason why Hermione was in danger, regardless of whether Harry was in the same position too. This was Barty's comeuppance, to be serving someone with such little regard for his life.

Harry found that he was smiling, a stubborn reaction in spite of his fears. "So not everything's gone according to plan? It's good to know that you're still fallible, Tom."

It was a mistake, he knew that as soon as the words escaped his mouth. Crouch was quickly forgotten, with Voldemort's wand pointing at Harry instead. He was thrown from his position, the ropes snapping under the pressure. Before he could even process being free once more, he had the same curse fired at him. His body began to spasm wildly, his nerve endings feeling like they were on fire. It was as if he was reliving every injury he'd experienced throughout his life at once. Every fall, every slap, every duelling mishap. His body could barely cope with the excruciating stimulus, his mouth began to froth, his words turning to garbled nonsense. He could hear Hermione screaming as she watched, though that could easily have been his own body protesting for what little control he had over it.

Thankfully, the spell wasn't placed on him for long, though the effects still remained. His bones seemed to ache when he attempted to move, so it was easier to just stay completely still. Harry knew that Voldemort was strolling around his prone body, and he received a little kick from the wizard. It sent another wave of fresh agony coursing through him, and he gritted his teeth to avoid shouting out once again.

"It's true that your friend somehow defied the power of the goblet. I would have liked for him to be here. What better way to restart my reign than by destroying students who represent everything I detest? Both students without pure blood, sitting at the top of Hogwarts' academic lists. It's something that I couldn't allow to stand…so now the Granger girl will become an example to any such filth who believe they could follow in her footsteps." Voldemort looked down at Harry, practically pitying the pathetic sight before him. "The fact that they were your closest allies made it all the sweeter. If I can't have both of them, then one will have to do. And I promise to make her experience the same level of pain I would have brandished for two."

Harry, on shaky legs, stood up. He didn't know where his wand was, he had no way of fighting against his captors. But he wasn't going to let them harm Hermione without at least trying to stop them. His rebuttal likely wouldn't last long since it was taking all of his energy just to remain standing, but he had to try. He was going to die tonight, he'd already come to that conclusion. He was going to face that fate as best he could.

"You'd kill her just because she's better than you?" he asked. "I didn't know you were that petty. Or that insecure."

"Harry…I know what you're doing. You're trying to rile my temper, to distract me from my true goals." he almost sounded gleeful about the insubordination. "You should know that that isn't going to work."

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Maybe even proud. You're obviously sensitive about people being better than you, but you're allowing Matthew to get away with it. We're all examples of people who have defied you, and that won't stop when we're gone."

Voldemort's smile was faltering. "Your friend will be the first to die once I'm done with you, mark my words. And once the fabled Harry Potter has been slain, the rest of the wizarding society will lose all its hope in the face of my return. The way you speak shows a bravery that you do not possess, Harry. I'd compliment you on it if it weren't so easy to see through."

"He is brave!" Hermione argued, drawing some strength from Harry's defiance.

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed angrily. "You dare speak to me, you filthy Mudblood?!"

She drew her chin high. "The last person who called me that got suitably dealt with. I have faith that the same will happen to you. And as for Harry…of course he's brave. He's stood against you three times…four now, if you count this. He's stopped you every time."

"I'm sure your devotion to the boy will make it hurt even more when I kill him." He ran a slender finger across his cheek. "What am I saying? You'll be dead long before I do that. I want him to watch the life leave your eyes."

Harry had already witnessed that once that evening, and he really didn't want to go through it again. He instinctively moved closer to his friend as if he had any chance of defending her. He watched as Voldemort walked in a small circle, eyeing Crouch carefully.

"There will be time for that, of course," he continued. "But there are other matters to attend to first. Your arm, Bartemius."

He grabbed it before it had even been offered. The sleeve was pulled back, revealing a tattoo that Harry had seen before. Karkaroff had brandished it worriedly in front of Snape only a few weeks previous. And it had flown high above the Ministry partway through Sirius' trial. His wand was placed against where he'd been brandished, Harry watching as the green tone turned into a murky black. The yells coming from Crouch were only drowned out by Harry's screams yet again, his scar throbbing mercilessly. He could hear Hermione yelling, asking if he were okay, but the pain was becoming too much to handle.

"Let's see how many respond to the call," Voldemort said. "And let's see how many are foolish enough to deny it."