It was the day of the final exam.
But, more importantly, it was the day of the final task and there was no answer to any of the burning questions.
Where was Bertha Jorkins?
Where was Mr. Crouch?
Did I really see Barty Crouch Junior at the World Cup?
Who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire?
And where did I drop my sanity?
That last one was a mystery to everyone on the face of the earth and beyond, so it really was quite the conundrum.
Every piece of information floated around me like a museum that I could walk through. Every book in wizard kind sat on shelves, unopened, collecting dust as they watched me move through my thoughts.
"You've found quite a bit, haven't you?" Helena said as she entered the Room of Requirement through the tall shelf of books about Hogwarts. "You didn't let this ruin your exam studying time, did you?"
"Oh, of course not. I finished early." I snorted. "Could you imagine? That would make this more than a hobby."
Helena's haunting eyes gazed at the many papers and newspaper clippings and letters hovering around the Room of Requirement. "It doesn't appear to be a mere hobby anymore."
I paused in my pacing.
I was taking it awfully serious for a hobby, wasn't I?
My eyes wandered, eying each of the pieces of information I had gathered since the beginning of the year as the questions began getting more plentiful.
More serious.
I stopped on one of the papers. Harry's name is put in the Goblet of Fire.
"...Now it's not a hobby anymore," I said plainly, taking the paper out of the air and walking towards the timeline. I placed it at the very end of the timeline and turned back to the grey figure that drifted through the room. "This is me trying to protect my friend."
Helena nodded slowly before leaving the room.
There was something I was missing.
Something I hadn't connected yet.
There was no such thing as a criminal that didn't leave any clues, just an incompetent investigator that didn't know what to do with them, and I refused to be the latter.
I sat on the chair, rubbing my temples as memories of everything I had written down, everything I had read, everything I had heard, all of it swirling through my mind.
It was definitely Voldemort related - a common denominator I've found in all the mysteries throughout the years. But how?
"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"
"He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."
"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"
"He went to look through the bushes."
"My dad says Mr. Crouch hasn't taken a sick day in years ."
"Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go."
"Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. He showed Snape something on his arm."
"The Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all."
"People tend to act a bit more forgetful than they are when Obliviate's just been used on them"
"Why would Mr. Crouch be in Snape's office?"
"If he expects Harry to die, he shouldn't care if he wins or not - you can't quite win if you're dead."
I groaned. "At this point, it'd be easier to believe that Harry put his name in and call it a day."
"But that wouldn't be the truth, would it?"
I tensed up and turned around, spotting my dad smiling up at the bookshelves as if they were pictures of his children - or, me, I guess.
"Dad?"
"Hello Adventurer."
I smiled and ran to him and he quickly scooped me up into a tight hug. "How did you even find this place?"
"You really believe that you're the first person to think of a library with every single book known to wizard kind?"
"Right, you were a friendless nerd."
"I wasn't friendless." He didn't deny the nerd allegations, though.
I glanced at the floating papers and shrugged. "I guess not."
He noticed the newspaper with his Barty's photo on it and I was lost from his grasp as his eyes met an old friend's.
My eyes softened as I watched his hand take hold of the paper and stare.
He had a shelf containing every interesting article of the Daily Prophet he found, but not once did I see that one.
Well, now it was time for me to have the clearest head in the room.
"Anyway," I started, trying to divert his grief-filled eyes away from the newspaper, "what are you doing here?"
My father hastily let go of the newspaper and allowed it to return to the air. "Why, the Triwizard Tournament, of course. We wouldn't miss Cedric making such a mark for the world." He placed his hands in his pockets. "Quite the investigation you have going on here. You do know that I only gave you two?"
The Dark Mark and Mr. Crouch's mysterious disappearance masked an illness.
I scoffed. "It's all just one."
A smirk tugged at his lip. Explain, it said.
There was something so refreshing about sharing a room with someone that wasn't dumber than you.
"So, Bertha Jorkins disappeared in Albania - coincidentally, after that, at the World Cup, Death Eaters show up and the Dark Mark is conjured. Who would know about the World Cup? Someone in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and guess which department Bertha Jorkins was in."
"Ah..." My father nodded. "And I assume that's how it's related to the Triwizard Tournament?"
"And Harry's name being put in the Goblet of Fire, yes. The probability of her having been kidnapped is very high, and if she was, whoever kidnapped her has connection to You-Know-Who, who wants Harry dead. The Triwizard Tournament is a perfect cover for that. It seems a bit far-fetched, but it's the only thing that makes sense."
"Indeed. And how is Barty connected to this?"
My lips parted.
What should I say?
That I saw his best friend alive at the World Cup, over a decade after he was supposed to have been dead, casting the Dark Mark?
"I was just looking into multiple Dark Wizards. As suspects."
"I see."
That tone, edged with skepticism and somehow sarcasm - he didn't believe a word I had said.
Of course he wouldn't, where was my brain suppose to have come from if not from my dad?
"Anyway, lunch has begun. I'm sure you will be delighted to see your mother."
I grinned, glad he didn't try to elaborate any further, and grabbed my bag.
With a quick flick of his wand, all the information flew into my bottomless bag and we walked to the door.
In the Great Hall, I saw my mother, as well as Cedric's parents, seated at the Ravenclaw table, with Cedric introducing Cho.
My mum noticed me immediately and stood up so I could run into her open arms.
"How have you been?" she asked. "You haven't been stressing too much over that investigation of yours, have you?"
"Of course not. You only stress over things you don't understand." Which is exactly why I was stressing over it, but I wasn't about to tell my mother that.
I sat beside Cho and pointed at the couple. "For the record, I put this together because they were to dense to realize they liked each other."
Cedric and Cho's faces mimicked each others bright red shade as they face away from each other, but I paid it no mind. This was my payment for three and a half bloody years trying to get those two together.
Amos leaned forward. "Y/N, I heard you sent bubotober pus to Rita Skeeter after she left out Cedric." His face appeared serious, but I wasn't about to throw my grand achievement under the bus. "Yes. Indeed I did."
His face suddenly brightened with a grin. "Good job."
"Amos!" Cedric's mom slapped his arm, but I could tell that she was proud of me as well.
My parents didn't mention it - it was actually quite underwhelming compared to when I sent a baby mandrake to her when I was 9.
She was lucky then; I was going to wait for the mandrake to grow up.
Once lunch was finished, Cedric's parents offered to walk me to the exam hall for my Muggle Studies exam before the final task.
I followed behind the group, eying people as they walked by.
"Bagman," my dad sneered when the jolly man walked by.
"What's wrong with him?"
"He was put on trial for passing on information to a Death Eater and got laid off because he was a bit popular." He clicked his tongue. "That's how you know those trials are rigged."
"He was put on trial?" I thought back to what Harry said.
"He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."
I furrowed my brow but didn't add anything more as the Weasleys walked by with Harry. I didn't want to worry them.
My dad, however, seemed angered by his very presence.
Maybe because he wasn't sent to Azkaban as quickly as Barty had been.
•••
Once my Muggle Studies exam was finished, everyone gathered in the Great Hall for the evening feast.
I glanced at the teacher's table. "Where'd Percy go?" I wondered, seeing Cornelius Fudge in his place.
I had personal qualms with that man, but that would be a story for another day.
"Not sure." Cedric put some rice in his mouth. "But now Mr. Crouch has been replaced twice. What even happened to him?"
"A good question," I mumbled.
So now the Ministry was taking notice to the abrupt disappearance of Mr. Crouch. Before, if such a thing were to happen, I'd ask my dad to give our findings to the Ministry. However, after the events of last year, I had ultimately decided that I would give them to someone that didn't only have a head for decoration.
I recalled Percy's letter back to us that said that he had been receiving letters with information, also mentioning that he would be able to recognize his own boss' handwriting.
Of course, I didn't doubt that. This was Percy we were talking about.
That, however, would imply that Mr. Crouch was able to write letters even during whatever events that occurred before Harry and Krum witnessed him in the forest.
I glanced at Krum, who had decided to stand and leave the Great Hall, and began following after. "I'll be right back."
I left the Great Hall and spotted him making his way to the bathroom. "Krum!"
He stopped and turned. "Oh. You're Herm-own-ninny's friend."
"Er... Yes. I was wondering something about the night you and Harry found Mr. Crouch. Who was it that stunned you?"
"That Crouch." His face contorted into a sour frown.
"Once Harry left?"
"Yes. He was incoherent, so Harry went to find someone to help... And he betrayed us."
I nodded slowly as I stepped back. "Thanks."
But that didn't make any sense.
The chances of the person that took Mr. Crouch being the one that put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire was high. Mr. Crouch wouldn't have mentioned that Voldemort, the leader of the Death Eaters, was getting more powerful otherwise.
Unless there was some other entity that wasn't Voldemort that wanted Harry dead that I didn't know of.
I got back to the Great Hall and sat down beside me, suddenly noticing that Moody was staring in my direction... but not at me.
At my dad.
"Do you know Moody?" I asked, my eyes on the food in front of me.
"Alastor Moody? No. We don't really work in the same department, you know."
"Right... yes."
My gaze flickered to Moody once more. When he was staring at my father, he didn't bother hiding it like he did me. His whole head, his entire body, faced my dad like he commanded his undivided attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore announced. "In five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will champions please follow Mr. Bagman to the stadium now."
Cedric stood and gave me a tight hug. "Remember the spells you learned, okay?" I said.
"Always." He kissed my forehead and went off to join the other champions.