"NOW!" Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway — he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died — but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear — they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze —
And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones — he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do —
"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.
Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel —
"Impedimenta!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.
From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm —
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort.
Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach —
Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.
"Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup.
It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle —
He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked — it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and colour, and Cedric along with him... They were going back.
__________________________
"It's gone," Mel said.
"Who's gone?"
"The thing..." Mel blinked rapidly, feeling a void where moments ago Harry's voice had been. "I–I... I can't hear him... He told me he could see our parents."
"Professor?" Erick ran back into the tent, "They're back."
Dumbledore stood up and left. Mel stood up too, but her legs wouldn't stop shaking, Erick stopped her, holding her in place.
"You shouldn't."
"What?" She tried to push him away. "Don't be stupid..."
"Mel, you sounded like you were dying," The boy said in exasperation. "You're not well!"
"I don't care!" She fought to get past him.
She ran for it, she needed to see he was okay. The exact moment she arrived, she heard Fudge said:
"Dumbledore — he's dead!"
Mel's breathing stopped for what felt the hundred time that night, she pushed past the crowd until she came face to face with the scene. Harry and Cedric were laying on the grass, one of Harry's hands was closed tightly around Dumbledore's wrist, the other was holding onto Cedric... Cedric's body.
"Harry, let go of him," Fudge said, kneeling down to take him away.
Harry wasn't looking directly at anyone, his eyes would lose focus, he was disoriented, but his hand remained closed.
"Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go," Dumbledore spoke.
It was all true, all she saw while she was in the middle of that... trance, it was all real.
Mel gawked and covered her mouth, she was definitely going to be sick. People walked past her, pushed her in all directions as she stood there, just listening.
"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered, blinking rapidly as he struggled to look at Dumbledore's face. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents..."
"That's right, Harry... just let go now..."
Dumbledore help Harry stand up, he stumbled a bit, his leg was still bleeding, exactly as she'd seen in her dream.
"What's happened?"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Diggory's dead!"
Mel stirred into action, she got closer and put one arm around Harry's waist without even asking, supporting his weight on her even though she was just as weak. Harry looked at her in a daze.
"You were there," He told her.
"I know," Mel panted, trying to steady their bodies. "I promise I would..."
"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge exclaimed next to them. "He's ill, he's injured — Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."
"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him —"
"No, I would prefer —"
"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running... he's coming over... Don't you think you should tell him — before he sees — ?"
"Harry," Dumbledore then noticed Mel standing there as well, and he looked at them intently. "Stay here —"
There was so much noise, all Mel wanted was to take Harry away, have a nap in her old bedroom... they could lay in silence forever until things were back to normal...
"It's all right, son, I've got you... come on... hospital wing..."
"Dumbledore said stay," said Harry.
His voice was soft and childish, she could tell by the way he kept his eyes closed that his scar was hurting. She felt so much like a child too: small, weak. Her energy was long gone, she didn't fight when a pair of hands pushed her along, guiding them back to the castle.
"You need to lie down... Come on now..."
The screams were dying, she heard the thumping of Moody's leg against the floor. She should've been worried, but she was so tired...
"What happened, Harry?"
"Cup was a Portkey," Harry replied clumsily. "Took me and Cedric to a graveyard... and Voldemort was there... Lord Voldemort..."
"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"
"Killed Cedric... they killed Cedric..."
"And then?"
"Made a potion... got his body back..."
"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"
Flashes of her nightmare came back and forth as Harry narrated.
"And the Death Eaters came... and then we duelled..."
"You duelled with the Dark Lord?"
"Mel was talking to me..."
"You were?" Moody addressed her then, eyes suddenly wide. "How?"
Mel gulped, her mouth felt like sand. "Thought I was dreaming..."
"After you helped my wand... did something funny... I saw my mum and dad... your dad... they came out of his wand..."
"In here... in here, and sit down... You'll be all right now... drink this..."
She looked up. They weren't in the infirmary.
"Drink it... you'll feel better... come on, now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened..."
As Moody poured a liquid down Harry's throat, she looked back to the door and felt something heavy on her chest. It was locked.
"Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"
"Harry..." She whispered.
"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," Harry said, not listening.
"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.
"Blood," He showed them his arm. Moody barely flinched at the sight.
"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Loads of them..."
"Harry..."
"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"
"Why does that matter?" Mel said, cursing internally for forgetting her wand back in the tent. She couldn't muster enough strength to do wandless magic.
"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts!" Harry gave a start. "There's a Death Eater here — they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end —"
Harry tried to stand, and Moody pushed him.
"I know who the Death Eater is," He said.
"Harry," Mel tried again, this time louder.
"Karkaroff?" Harry was shaking. "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"
"Karkaroff?" Moody laughed. "Karkaroff fled tonight when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them... but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."
"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then — he didn't put my name in the goblet?"
"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."
Mel whimpered before she could stop herself, sinking further in her chair. The nightmare wasn't over.
"No, you didn't," Harry said, still too confused. "You didn't do that... you can't have done..."
"I assure you I did," said Moody.
"He's not Moody," Mel said. "He's not the real Moody, Harry..."
Moody pointed his wand at them.
"Ah, Miss Dumbledore, you knew! Told you to leave it to the adults, didn't I? But true to you nature, you kept digging... I guess I should be happy you're still young and gullible to listen to what you're told, otherwise I would've had to kill you."
Mel curled up scared to death, there was nothing she could do against a Death Eater, weak as she was.
"He forgave them, then?" Moody said, turning to Harry. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"
"What?" said Harry, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"I asked you whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."
"You fired... What are you talking about..?"
"I told you, Harry... I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry... Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful... prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all... you."
"You're insane," Mel choked out, trying to muster enough force to push him away, but she barely could've lighted a candle.
"You didn't... it — it can't be you..." Harry stammered.
"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did. It hasn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess so that my hand would not be detectable in your success.
"Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start — then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task... that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint —"
"You didn't," Harry said hoarsely. "Cedric gave me the clue —"
"Who told Cedric to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you. Decent people are so easy to manipulate, Potter. I was sure Cedric would want to repay you for telling him about the dragons, and so he did. But even then, Potter, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time... all those hours in the library. Didn't you realize that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along?
"I planted it there early on, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not... you did not... You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all."
She had to think, she had to do something. She'd seen Dumbledore sending a type of Patronus the day Krum had been stunned, but she couldn't send that, there wasn't an ounce of happiness in her at the moment, but she had to send the message... Her heart jumped, Mel had the answer in her pocket.
"So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed.
"And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you... Looking back I see I should've pushed all the information onto Miss Dumbledore's hands!" He laughed. "I kept an eye on her, always helping, not only that, but she solved everything twice as fast! I'm sure she would've helped you solve the second task in less than a week if you would've let her... seems to be the only person you actually listen to..."
Moody kept both eyes on Harry, she slowly reached for her pocket and pulled out the golden watch. She tampered with the buttons as silently as possible.
"You were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility and marked you high for it. I breathed again... You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course. I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum so that he would finish Diggory and leave your path to the cup clear."
She read her own message:
NOT MOODY. HELP.
Mel pressed the button.
A minute after, four figures started to form on the Foe-Glass -she'd read about it- and she tried to keep Moody's attention on her and Harry so he wouldn't look back.
"I knew," Her voice was destroyed after the hour spent screaming. "You're right– I was going to tell Dumbledore tonight all I knew..." Which was practically nothing, but Moody doesn't have to know that. "I saved Harry–"
"I see that," He spat. "I won't kill you until I know exactly how. I underestimated you, Aberforth's descendant couldn't be that much of a nuisance, but alas... It's true what they say about the women of your blood. As for Harry... imagine how the Dark Lord will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him — the thing he needed above all to regenerate — and then I killed you for him. Both of you. I will be honoured beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter... closer than a son..."
"I'll tell you everything but I want to know something too," Mel blurted out, her adrenaline helping to keep a steady voice. "Why did you take Crouch?"
Moody's eyes widened, it was a wild guess, but correct nonetheless judging by the way he reacted.
"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers... very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure... the very great pleasure... of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"
Mel frowned, that didn't give anything away! Not unless... but it was impossible, he was dead, Sirius watched as the dementors buried him...
"You're mad," Harry said, "you're mad!"
"Mad, am I? We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him — and now — I conquer you!"
Her eyes moved from the man to the Foe-Glass, the faces were crystal clear.
"WE'RE HERE!" She yelled, damaging her vocal cords even further. "HELP!"
Moody raised his wand, but Mel grabbed Harry by the neck of his robes and covered both of their bodies.
"Stupefy!" Someone yelled behind the door, bursting it open.
Moody fell backwards, the boy held onto her and looked around, coming face to face with Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall... and Erick, white as a ghost.
Dumbledore stepped into the office radiating power, he stared down at Moody and turned him upwards. Snape followed, eyes fixed on the Foe-Glass. Professor McGonagall and Erick went to them.
"Come along, children," she said softly. "Come along... your mother is waiting for the both of you, Mel... hospital wing..."
"No," said Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore, he ought to — look at them — They'd been through enough tonight —"
"They will stay, Minerva, because Harry needs to understand," Dumbledore insisted. "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. Mel–" He raised his left hand, Erick's watch was hanging from it, "though you figured it out, I believe you haven't heard all there is to know. Stay."
"Moody," Harry said shakily, still holding tightly to her arm. "How can it have been Moody?"
"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. Mr Flint ran after me and showed me this, saying it was a message from you– and I knew..."
Dumbledore pulled out Moody's flask and a set of keys.
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here. Mr Flint–" He handed the watch to its owner. "Go to the Minister, tell him to come here as soon as he can."
Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneakoscopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk, and each time revealing different contents. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.
He was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Harry stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.
Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.
"Stunned — controlled by the Imperius Curse — very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak — he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."
Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.
"Polyjuice Potion... You see the simplicity of it and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair... The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done... on the hour... every hour. We shall see."
Dumbledore pulled out the chair and sat down, his eyes moved from Moody to her, a glint similar to the one he adopted during her lessons.
"How did you know, Mel?" He asked calmly.
"I didn't," Mel confessed. "I mentioned it to Erick this evening, I didn't know for real until now..."
"You must have seen the signs either way if you suspected..."
Mel told him everything and Dumbledore listened when she mentioned Crouch, and Moody's reply to her question, his eyes returned to the fake Alastor Moody.
"So it was Crouch..." Dumbledore let out heavily.
Then, before Harry's very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled grey hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the colour of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.
Harry saw a man lying before him, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. He knew who he was. He had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr Crouch that he was innocent... but he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older...
There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.
"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"
"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.
Filthy, dishevelled, 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.
Mel was faster, she caught Winky and stopped her from touching the man.
"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!" She squirmed in her arms.
"Stop it!" She grunted. "He's all right!"
"He is simply Stunned, Winky," Dumbledore nodded. "Severus, you have the potion?"
Dumbledore sat Barty Crouch and poured a few drops down his throat just like he'd done to Harry. Winky was no longer fighting, she was hiding her face behind her skinny hands.
"Rennervate," He said, pointing his wand directly at the man's chest.
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 favour 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."
"Say no more, Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"
Simpler than what she'd thought. It felt surreal, how close she was to the truth and yet had decided to ignore it she was because it just felt too crazy.
"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."
"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?"
"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?"
"The Imperius Curse. I was under my father's 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 behaviour."
"He was there during the Quidditch Final," Mel spoke. "Winky was looking after you, wasn't she?"
"Yes."
"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf ?"
"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 master's private business? Why isn't she leaving us be?"
"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore, addressing to Mel's question.
He told them about how he fought against the Imperius Curse, Harry's wand and the rage towards the Death Eaters' that woke him up completely. How Wormtail found him thanks to Bertha Jorkins and how they subdued his father in order to have a free will himself. She was right about him stealing from Snape, about him attacking Moody during summer. She'd been right.
"But your father escaped."
"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."
"Map?" Dumbledore glanced at her. "What map is this?"
"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape."
She avoided Dumbledore's eyes, ashamed of her own doing keeping the map a secret.
"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."
After he was done with his story, all they could hear was Winky's cries.
"And tonight..." Dumbledore continued.
"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner. Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honoured 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.