White Heather for Protection

Mystery Solved

Heart in her throat, Heather ran towards her brother. Spells flew from her wand. A diagnostic showed Cruciatus damage, a broken ankle, a large cut on his arm and severe magical exhaustion. She immediately cast healing charms to fix his wounds, though the nerve damage from the Crucio could only be healed with time. Shakily, she slumped to the ground next to him.

"Hadrian, oh thank Circe!" She pulled him into her arms, mindful not to jostle him too much. "You're alright!"

He smiled weakly in return. "Yeah, sorry for worrying you." Then, he frowned, clutching her arms. "Cedric, he's okay, right? The portkey worked?"

"Hadrian!" Speak of the devil. The older Hufflepuff crouched to their level and grasped Hadrian's shoulder. Before he could speak, however, they were descended upon by their friends and family. Sirius, Remus, the twins, Ron and Hermione crowded around them, all speaking at once.

Irritated, she flicked her wand and thought, 'Silencio!'. Blessed silence. She glared at all of them. "Can't you see how exhausted Hadrian is? You're overwhelming him!" Chagrined looks greeted her. "Now, I'm going to release the spell, but let Hadrian say what he needs to. Are we clear?" They nodded rapidly. She dropped the silencing charm.

"Thanks Heather," her brother said gratefully. He truly looked awful, she'd make sure he got rest soon.

"No problem, now can you tell us what happened after Cedric left?" In her peripheral view, she saw the older boy wince slightly, looking guilty. Good. He should be. He was the older one, he should have protected Rian, not the other way around!

Her brother's green eyes darkened ominously. "Voldemort. H-he's back." He bit his lip, as if unwilling to say any more.

"Preposterous!" a reedy voice shouted. Someone pushed through the crowd, ranting, "What sort of nonsense are you spewing now, you brat?" Heather swivelled around to glower at the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Are you accusing my brother of being a liar?" she asked dangerously. After the day she'd had, her temper was at its tipping point. She didn't need this incompetent excuse of a leader to insult Rian.

The man visibly startled at the venom in her voice. "O-of course not. But perhaps the task was too tiring for him. He must have been hallucinating. Understandable, he's only a fourteen-year-old boy, after all."

Her glare increased in intensity at the words. Anyone with a brain decided to slowly back away from her. Which meant only Fudge was left after everyone had retreated. Her magic lashed out wildly, seeking an outlet for her rage.

"I would consider my words carefully if I were you, Cornelius Fudge. Hadrian just returned bearing evidence of damage from the Cruciatus. This occurred during the Triwizard Tournament, a Ministry-sanctioned event. If it wasn't Voldemort, as you claim, I can only infer that the injury was dealt by someone of yours. Surely the Ministry did not include Unforgiveables as part of the tournament?"

As she spoke, her magic spilled out more and more. By the time she had said her piece, Fudge was sweating bullets. He certainly felt the suffocating waves of magic prssing down on him, though he probably didn't recognise it for what it was.

"N-no, you mistake me Miss-" At her glare, he corrected himself. "-Lady Potter. I was me-merely pointing out that the story doesn't seem very believable. You-Know-Who was killed by your brother years ago!"

"Hadrian would never lie about this!" she reiterated. "If he says that Voldemort," she relished in the flinch Fudge made, "has returned, then he has!"

"Yeah, I saw him. I duelled him!" Hadrian argued vehemently.

Nervously, the Minister held his hands out. "I simply cannot take that as truth without proof, you understand. You cannot expect me to believe you duelled You-Know-Who and made it back alive!"