Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

50. parting of the ways.

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 which 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 and Antheia 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 tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here. We need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. 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.

"Harry? Antheia?" Dumbledore said gently.

Antheia stood up slowly, her head spinning rapidly. Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had listened to Crouch, now returned in full measure. Dumbledore gripped their arms, and helped them out into the dark corridor.

"I want you to come up to my office first," he said quietly, as they headed up the passageway. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

Harry and Antheia nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon them. Harry didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Triwizard Cup. Antheia didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across her mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Cedric ... dead ... Cedric, asking to be returned to his parents ...

"Professor," Harry mumbled, "where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?"

"They are with Professor Sprout," said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. "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 he, Antheia, and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open.

Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room. 'Harry, Antheia, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?'

His hands shook as he helped them into a chair in front of the desk.

"What happened?" he asked, more urgently.

Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. Antheia was only half listening. She wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until she fell asleep, and didn't have to think or feel any more. She was fiddling with Harry's fingers, which were cold and rough.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Antheia's knee.

"Hi, Fawkes," said Antheia quietly. She stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at her and Harry. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

Dumbledore had stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry and Antheia, behind his desk. He was looking at them, who avoided his eyes.

Dumbledore was going to question him, Harry thought. He was going to make him relive everything.