AN: As always, thanks for all your support. Edit: Some of you are great about noticing errors I've made in the story and either sending me a pm or dropping a review, and I really appreciate it. I don't have a beta reader, so i do my best, but I do miss things. So, thanks!
MultiversalCosms - Sorry I disappointed you, but I guess I can't make everyone happy. I didn't want Harry's improved skills to overshadow the other champions. In canon, he seemed to win because he was helped or got lucky or some sort of cheating. For this story, I wanted Harry to do well on his own merits, but that didn't mean the other champions weren't also very skilled. I felt it was important for one other champion to make it to the end and deal with the safety measure that Crouch Jr. emplaced to ensure Harry was captured . . . and that champion was collateral damage. I felt it was important for Harry to see and develop from that collateral damage, and unfortunately, I have plans for Krum and Fleur . . . so Cedric paid the price.
hushpuppy22 - Thanks! I'm happy that you enjoy my weekly updates and the story so far. I'll do my best to keep them up.
BellaphineBlack - Yep, not very subtle on my part, but fits for the story. Voldemort and his agent couldn't afford to have Astra come in and help.
Stars90 - Oh, they won't be happy.
GreengrassRebel - Thank you. Yeah, I'm trying to do my best to reshape even the canon parts that stay in or reframe them so they are fresh for people, even if the general storyline is familiar. It also allows me to up the pace a bit and add some other little dynamics in. Yeah, Voldy is a prat. Someday he'll pay for his disrespect though.
scrappy8 - Harry still has a lot to learn, but he's in a much better position for his eventual fight with Tom
Arctic Wolf Fury - Yeah, one day. But not this day unfortuantely.
Chapter 43
Dora was starting to reach her panic point. Mad-Eye had confirmed that both Cedric and Harry were gone from the maze, as was the Triwizard Cup, confirming that somehow both had touched the portkey, but rather than bringing them here, it had clearly taken them elsewhere, and that scared her.
It didn't help that Astra was still out of it, which meant the hellhound couldn't rush to her bonded partner's aid, nor could she call others to do so. Everything was too suspiciously perfect to ensure Harry's disappearance. Fleur and Krum were basically taken out, and Dora suspected that Cedric had only made it to the end because of the boy's own skill.
"How am I supposed to know what we should do?" Fudge demanded. "This should not have happened! Dumbledore, you need to do something!"
Further conversation was cut off as Harry and Cedric appeared by portkey, which was the Triwizard Cup. Dora breathed a sigh of relief, seeing Harry move, but that relief was short lived when Harry slowly got to his knees, and she could see the tears in his eyes, looking at Cedric's still unmoving body, grasping the boy's seemingly lifeless hand, and Dora made the connection.
Nervous voices erupted and Dumbledore moved towards Harry who glanced up with a shattered look, which filled with determination.
"He's back," Harry called out, his voice cracking. "Voldemort's back!"
"W-what did he say?" Fudge said, approaching, looking horrified. "My god - Dumbledore! Diggory, he's dead!"
"Voldemort's back!" Harry yelled again, and between Fudge's words, and Harry's panicked and grief stricken voices cried out from the crowd.
That proclamation brought out a wave of cries from those closest to the Minister. The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them. . . and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night -
"He's dead!"
"He's dead!"
"Cedric Diggory! Dead!"
"Potter said it was You-Know-Who?!"
Dora left Harry's friends and started to push through the crowd, witnessing Fudge and Dumbledore trying to pry Harry from Cedric's limp body, and talking softly. She knew she could give Harry the comfort he so desperately needed, but to her confusion, Barty Crouch got there first and started pulling Harry away.
She managed to push through the crowd and get close to Dumbledore and Fudge.
"Dumbledore, we have to talk about the outlandish things he's saying," Fudge said sternly, and Dora wanted to scowl at the two men leaving a boy out in the cold, so to speak, to discuss immaterial details at the moment.
"Couch, stop!" Dora called out, drawing Dumbledore's attention and Crouch glared at her as Harry pushed himself away from the man.
Crouch drew his wand and Dora's heart clenched as he yelled, "Avada kedavra!" and the sickly green spell sprang from his wand at Harry, screams echoing around the area, but Harry managed to find the strength to roll out of the way of the spell and Crouch turned and started running as several spells were sent his way.
Most of the people in the area were looking at Harry to ensure that he was still alive, while the rest were preparing to run after Crouch who was sprinting further and further away.
"Don't let him escape!" Dumbledore ordered.
"He's not going anywhere," Dora nearly snarled as she dropped to a knee. She wandlessly lengthened her wand until it became long and staff-like, which she balanced with familiarity. She breathed slowly, feeling the wind, judging the increasing distance, and Crouch's movements over the uneven Hogwarts grounds.
"Everbero!" Dora whispered, controlling her movements, and charging energy into the spell, and the spell shot from her wand faster than normal, but smaller in radius. It covered the distance rapidly and connected with Crouch's back, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.
"Merlin, Dora," Remus said in awe, having come up next to her.
"Nice job, lass," Mad-Eye said proudly, also having come up next to her. "Not many have any hope of hitting a target from that far away."
She glanced back seeing McGonagall and Snape having joined Dumbledore, ready to pursue. McGonagall had a proud look, and even Snape seemed slightly impressed.
"Crouch and Bagman were the ones that insisted the hound be put under a potion," Mad-Eye growled out. "Bagman fessed up that Crouch was helping him pay off his debts to ensure Harry's victory."
"Sirius and Alexis have Bagman under their control," Remus said.
"This was all a plot for Voldemort's return," Dora said in horror.
"Harry wasn't supposed to survive," Mad-Eye said. "Crouch was trying to clean up before scampering off. Lass, we'll grab Crouch or whoever it is that's impersonating him. You tend to the lad."
Dora nodded and quickly moved over to where Harry was just getting on his knees, a rather blank and lost expression on his face. Dora drew him into a hug, beyond relieved to see him safe.
"I'm here, you're safe," Dora said, hugging him tightly, and he felt him shudder in her arms.
"Let's get him to the hospital wing," McGonagall said, and Dora nodded, helping Harry up.
"No," Dumbledore said sharply, and Dora turned, seeing him glaring furiously at Crouch's fallen form in the distance, and for the first time, Dora could see exactly why dark wizards feared the man, but she wasn't a dark wizard, and it didn't matter who it was. Nobody was going to stop her from looking out for Harry, so Dora's eyes narrowed at him.
"Dumbledore, he ought to - look at him - he's been through enough tonight -" McGonagall said.
"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."
Dora glanced at Harry, who gave her a reassuring nod, but based on how he looked, she wasn't sure she should take his word into account.
"Crouch," Harry said in disbelief. "Voldemort said they had a Death Eater here . . . but I never would have thought Crouch. I thought it was Karkaroff."
"That is not Bartemius Crouch, and it wasn't Karkaroff, who fled tonight, as soon as he knew Voldemort had returned," said Dumbledore quietly. "Barty never would join Voldemort, and he would not have taken you away from me tonight, especially since he wouldn't have considered you a priority."
Dora helped support Harry as they moved away from the crowd and out to the grounds where Mad-Eye and Remus were standing over Crouch. Dumbledore bent down over Crouch's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out a flask, and then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up to my office the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go alert the Minister that Miss Tonks apprehended our culprit for this whole debacle, and also have Alexis and Sirius bring Ludo to my office."
"Alastor, Nymphadora, Remus, Harry, let us move this to a more secure area," Dumbledore said, using his wand to levitate the imposter Crouch.
"Professor," Harry mumbled after a bit of walking, "where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"
"They are with Professor Sprout," said Dumbledore, and Dora was surprised to hear his voice shake. "She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best. "
They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and they went into the office, and Harry smiled seeing that Astra had finally awoken and made her way into the office ahead of him.
He moved to his familiar which nearly pounced on him in her effort to get to him, and he hugged her close.
"I'm sorry, girl," he whispered, as she whined. "I'm never letting anyone stop you from coming to my aid again. I promise."
It wasn't long before Sirius and Alexis arrived, and Sirius immediately hugged Harry, doing just like Dora had, and looking at his injuries with sadness. As Sirius pulled back, Fawkes flew over and perched on Harry's knee, and Harry petted the phoenix lightly.
"Fudge was going to grab some extra protection. Minerva was with him, and they took Bagman with them," Alexis said, and Dumbledore nodded, before he turned to Harry, and Dora knew what Dumbledore was going to ask.
"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry," said Dumbledore.
"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let him sleep. Let him rest."
"Yes, he came up for answers about Crouch, not an interrogation," Dora said firmly, and Harry smiled at both of them gratefully, but Dumbledore took no notice of their words. He leaned forward toward Harry, and Harry looked into his eyes.
"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."
Fawkes let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Dora watched Harry shiver before he started talking, telling them about how the portkey had taken them to a graveyard and how Cedric had been killed and Harry stunned.
Dora watched as Harry spoke his grueling story, but Dumbledore was right. As Harry spoke, he did seem to become less tense, though when Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, Sirius and Remus both let out vehement exclamations, and Dumbledore stood up and had Harry stretch out his arm, showing where he'd been cut.
"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my - my mother left in me - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."
Dora's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as for a small moment, she thought she saw a gleam of triumph cross Dumbledore's face before he looked as old and weary as anyone had ever seen.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, sitting down again. "With you not with your relatives, the blood protection provided very little protection to yourself, but I'm sure Voldemort didn't know that."
Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and how they dueled, something which got grunts of praise and approval from Mad-Eye, herself, Sirius, and Remus.
Then he started telling them the wildest story about a golden beam of light that connected when their wands' spells hit.
Sirius was the one who broke the silence.
"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"
Dora glanced at the Headmaster whose face had an arrested look.
"Priori Incantatem," he muttered.
"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply, and Dora frowned in confusion.
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.
"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?" Harry said, sounding amazed.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago. "
"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" Remus asked curiously.
"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle . . . a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first . . . and then those which preceded it . . . "
He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.
"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, "that some form of Cedric must have reappeared. "
Harry nodded again.
"Diggory came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.
"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand . . . am I correct, Harry?"
"He spoke to me," Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. "The . . . the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."
"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared . . . less recent victims of Voldemort's wand . . ."
"An old man," Harry said, his throat sounding constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And . . ."
"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Yes," said Harry equally quietly, and Dora hugged Harry while Remus and Sirius both put comforting hands on his shoulders.
"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows . . . what did they do?"
Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's mother had told him what to do, how Cedric had made its final request. Finally Harry just stopped speaking. Dora realized he had no more to say or just couldn't say anymore.
Not a moment later, Fawkes flew away after dropping tears onto Harry's arm, mending the wound Wormtail had left.
"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door, and Snape wandered into the room, holding a bottle of veritaserum and guiding a house elf, McGonagall was also on his heels. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight. Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. Now, I believe it is time for you to get some answers before some well deserved rest."
**HP**
Harry stared at the imposter Crouch as his skin started to change. The imposter was pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair.
"Crouch!" Snape said, staring at the man in shock, and Dora frowned. "Barty Crouch!"
"Wait, there's two Barty Crouches?" Harry asked, with a tired frown.
"This is Barty Crouch Jr." Dumbledore said quietly. "He was arrested with the Lestranges for torturing the Longbottoms into insanity. Barty Crouch himself tried his son. It was believed he died in Azkaban."
"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.
Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.
"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"
She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.
"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"
"He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"
Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Vivica."
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.
"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
The man's eyelids flickered.
"Yes," he muttered.
"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"
Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.
"My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."
Winky was shaking her head, trembling.
"Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"
But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.
"The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.
"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."
The man's eyelids flickered.
"And what did your father do with you, when he got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master . . . of returning to his service. "
"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.
"The Imperius Curse," Crouch said. "I was under my fathers control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior. "
"Master Barty, Master Barty," sobbed Winky through her hands. "You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble . . . . "
"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"
"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."
"Why is she coming to nose into my masters private business?" sobbed Winky. "Why isn't she leaving us be?"
"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.
"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.
"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.
"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a girl's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."
'Hermione's wand,' Harry thought numbly. Even back then, this man had been causing problems in Harry's life.
"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.
"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"
"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles and then losing a fight to a mere boy. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand."
"I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."
"Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.
"When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."
Winky let out a wail of despair.
"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then . . . and then . . . " Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me.
"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."
The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.
"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.
"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.
"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. However, our plan wasn't perfect. Wormtail and I went to ambush Moody, but we didn't realize he wouldn't be at his home, nor did we realize that when he came back, he'd have Sirius Black with him. We failed. So instead of using Polyjuice Potion on Moody and controlling him, I took over my father's place, allowing me to get information at the Ministry."
"I learned that Potter had been allowed to do magic over the summer, that he was being trained by Moody and his guardians, that he had patronage from the God of the Underworld, and my master realized that we might not have to lead Harry Potter through the Tournament as much as we thought. It was my job to get his name in the Goblet, and then watch and see. If he wasn't helped, and looked like he needed a push, it was my job to make sure he got it. It was easy to learn that Hagrid would help Harry Potter learn about the dragons, and I easily convinced Ludo Bagman to help pad the score and provide aid, but during the First Task, it was apparent that I wouldn't be needed to get Potter through. I just needed to sabotage the others and to help Potter's score. Beyond that, I needed to make Potter look bad and pave the way to have his grim taken out of action for the final task. So, I used my master's old followers at the Ministry to spread dissent and feed to the press that people thought Potter was cheating. It didn't take long before people really did think Potter was cheating. Skeeter made things easy."
"What became of Wormtail after you assumed your father's place?" Dumbledore asked.
"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father. Until tonight that is," and Crouch smiled again. "Tonight, I was rewarded with killing my father."
"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"
"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"
"It's buried in my father's backyard. We had no more need of him after tonight, and there was no need to risk exposure if I slipped up during the investigation that would follow Harry Potter's disappearance."
There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight. . . "
"I carried the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey that would pull Harry Potter in, whether he wanted to or not. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards. "
The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.
Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"
"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.
"Severus" - Dumbledore turned to Snape - "please go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge and bring him up to this office, regardless if he's got extra Aurors or not. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself, and the quicker we get this started, the better it will be for us. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."
Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room, and then Harry was guided out of the room by Dumbledore with Alexis, Sirius, Dora, and Remus as a guard, both physically and emotionally.
When Dumbledore pushed open the door to the hospital wing, Harry saw a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey surrounded by a mob of people that included Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Katie, Alicia, Angelina, and also Fleur, her mother, and her sister. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him. All of them whipped around as Harry, Dumbledore, and the others entered, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.
"Harry! Oh Harry!"
She started to hurry toward him, but Dumbledore moved between them.
"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking around at the large group, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on the rest of the group as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"
Harry felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question him. It wasn't as though he didn't want them there; he very much did, but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than he could stand.
"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school."
He left as Harry sat on a nearby bed, though he glanced at Fleur, who still looked shaky, and still had cuts on her face.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, and Fleur smiled.
"I'm fine, 'arry," she assured him.
"She wouldn't let me tend to her until you got out of the maze and then until she found out what happened to you," Madam Pomfrey said, with a stern glare at the part-Veela, and handing Harry some pajamas and pulling the screens around him.
He took off his robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. Astra immediately jumped onto his bed and settled down at his feet. All of his friends and family settled themselves in chairs all around the room, except for Fleur who was finally coaxed into the bed next to his by Madam Pomfrey, her mother, and her sister. Ron and Hermione were looking at him almost cautiously, as though scared of him. Ginny had tears in her eyes. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were staring at him sadly, with hints of controlled anger.
"I'm all right," he told them. "Just tired."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his bed-covers unnecessarily. Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.
"You'll need to drink all of this. Harry," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."
Harry took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He felt himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at him in a friendly way through the screen around his bed; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before he could finish the potion, before he could say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.
**HP**
Dora leapt up from where she'd settled near Harry when she heard the yelling start, and she glared towards the doorway.
"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!" Molly whispered.
"What are they shouting about? What went wrong?" Sirius asked.
"That's Fudge's voice," Remus whispered. "And Minerva's, but what are they arguing about?"
"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva -" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.
"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out -"
Dora watched as the hospital doors burst open, and most of the people in the room scrambled to their feet, wondering what was going on.
Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of anyone in the room.
"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing. Minister, don't you think you'd do better to -"
But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.
"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -"
"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"
Dora's eyes narrowed at that, especially since she'd never seen McGonagall lose control like this.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had confirmed that we caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice; he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -"
"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -"
"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked far angrier than ever before, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"
But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.
"The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and - and -"
Dora gasped, and she felt fury erupt, knowing that Crouch was now no longer a threat, but he also couldn't give testimony.
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths'."
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"
"You don't get to decide why he did or didn't do something and how the prisoner is dealt with!" Sirius growled out angrily, and Fudge glared at him.
"As Minister, I have the right to deal with escaped convicts as I see fit!"
"So I remember," Sirius spat, and Fudge glared at him.
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said wearily. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."
Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.
"You-Know-Who . . . returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore . . ."
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch Jr. confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Harry was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now . . . certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who"s orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore . . ."
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."
Dora glanced at Harry, s0eeing that he was awake and watching everything unfold.
"I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight," Dumbledore said, and Dora nodded in approval, finally happy with something Dumbledore did that night.
Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are - er - prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Astra growling, her teeth bared at Fudge, while most of the room actively glared at him.
"Certainly, I believe Harry," said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry before answering.
"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who . . . well . . . "
Fudge shot Harry another look, and Dora wanted to snarl.
"You're basing your opinion on Harry based on Skeeter's stupid articles?!" Dora exclaimed.
Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.
"And if I am?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -"
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?"
"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate an indefinable sense of power. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.
"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before . . . "
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted, and nearly everyone in the room jumped, not having realized he was awake. He tried to get out of bed again, but Angelina stopped him. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy -"
Snape made a sudden movement, but as Dora looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.
"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family - donations to excellent causes -"
"Macnair!" Harry continued.
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery - Nott - Crabbe - Goyle -"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! Or been listening to too many stories from Mad-Eye! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore - this boy is involved in some crazy event every year, events he has no business being in, and events that seem even stranger after he tells the story. His guardians claimed that he needed to learn how to protect himself over the summers and used my leniency to train him for a Dueling Circuit. His tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them - the boy can talk to snakes. Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Barty Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
Dora stared in shock, not thinking that the hitch in their plan to prepare to fight Voldemort would be their own government. She couldn't believe that Fudge, the Minister, was prepared to believe articles Rita fucking Skeeter wrote instead of Harry's word.
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway. Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -"
"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.
"The second step you must take - and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You - you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants - people hate them, Dumbledore - end of my career -"
"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of an Ancient pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now- take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad . . . "
And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. Everyone else was staring at Fudge.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who"d have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me -"
"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side. "
It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be . . . "
Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.
"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances . . ."
He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.
"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly . . . am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."
"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."
"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry -"
"Leave it to me," said Bill.
He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room, and it would have been amusing under different circumstances for Dora to realize he missed the rather impressed look he got from Fleur.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come - Madame Maxime. "
Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and to my office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us. "
"Very - very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.
"Sirius, Remus, I need you both to go alert Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Sturgis Podmore - the old crowd."
Sirius and Remus both nodded, and Dora saw Harry's face fall slightly as the two men went over and hugged him, and whispered quiet words of comfort before Sirius got a kiss from Alexis, and Dora kissed Remus and they both left the room.
"I'll head out and see who I can convince in the DMLE," Alexis said. "I'm sure I can convince a few Aurors of what has happened, and possibly Amelia."
"Good," Dumbledore said, and she went and also said something quietly to Harry, which he responded to quietly as well with a nod and soft smile and then she departed.
Dora watched as Apolline said something quietly to her daughter, who nodded and then she said to the group, "I will notify my 'usband. The French Ministry is not so short-sighted."
"That would be wonderful," Dumbledore said, with a grateful nod, as Apolline walked out of the room, leaving her youngest daughter to climb into bed with her oldest, the two girls in a comfortable embrace.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . ."
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Apolline.
It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggory's. Harry - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."
"Come on, Harry," Dora said softly. "Finish the potion and get some rest."
"You deserve a good long sleep," Mrs. Weasley said. "Try and think about something else for a while . . . think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's or Fleur's or Viktor's, not mine."
Dora watched as one of the strongest people she knew finally succumbed to his emotions, something he'd been futilely, and foolishly fighting, as tears fell out of the corners of his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Dora said, sitting on the side of his bed.
"He only died because the cup dragged us both into it," Harry said. "If it wasn't for me, he would still be here."
Dora hugged Harry with everything she had, and he hugged her back, the sobs finally breaking through, and Dora felt her own tears falling, but it didn't matter. This was a time of mourning.
There was a loud slamming noise, and Dora glanced over to see that Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, handing it to Harry, passing Dora, and he drank it with one gulp and fell back into his pillows.