Dark

Chapter 36

Harry
“What happened, Harry?” Someone asked as they pulled me up the stone steps of the castle.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. It was Mad-Eye Moody.
“Cup was a Portkey,” I said, drawing in a sharp breath. “Took me and Cedric to a graveyard…and Voldemort was there…Lord Voldemort…”
Clunkc. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs…
“The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?”
“Killed Cedric…they killed Cedric…”
“And then?”
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor…
“Made a potion…got his body back…”
“The Dark Lord got his body back? He’s returned?”
“And the Death Eaters came…and then we dueled…”
“You dueled with the Dark Lord?”
“Got away…my wand…did something funny…I saw my mum and dad…they came out of his wand…”
“In here, Harry…in here, and sit down…You’ll be all right now…drink this…”
I could hear a key scraping in a lock and I felt a cup being pushed into my hands. Everything seemed thick and foggy, utterly confusing.
“Drink it…you’ll feel better…come on now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened…”
Moody moved my hand so that the cup was at my face and I tilted it back without thinking. A peppery taste burned down my throat and I coughed. Suddenly my senses began to come back to me. I was sitting in Moody’s office.
“Voldemort’s back, Harry? You’re sure he’s back? How did he do it?”
“He took stuff from his father’s grave, and from Wormtail, and me,” I answered. My head was clearing up, the constant pain that had seared across my forehead since Voldemort’s return started to ebb away. I could hear screaming and shouting from the Quidditch Pitch, even at this distance.
“What did the Dark Lord take from you?” Moody asked.
“Blood,” I said, raising my arm to reveal the cut that Wormtail had inflicted with his dagger.
Moody let out a breath in a long, low hiss.
“And the Death Eaters? They returned?”
“Yes,” I said. “Loads of them…”
“How did he treat them?” Moody asked quietly. “Did he forgive them?”
Then it came to me so suddenly that I wanted to bolt back out of the castle and straight to Dumbledore, but my legs just wouldn’t cooperate.
“There’s a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There’s a Death Eater here – they put our names in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure we got through to the end –“
“I know who the Death Eater is,” Moody said quietly.
“Karkaroff?” I asked wildly. “Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up? He’s going to attack Eleanor, we can’t let that happen!”
“Karkaroff?” Moody said with an odd laugh. “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 our names in?”
“No,” Moody said slowly. “No, he didn’t. It was I who did that.”
That couldn’t be right. Why? How?
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You didn’t do that…you can’t have done…”
Suddenly Eleanor’s warnings came back to me. Her distrust of Moody, her insistence that he was hiding something. She had been right.
“I assure you I did,” Moody said, his magical eye suddenly swinging around and fixing upon the door. He drew out his wand and pointed it at me.
“Where’s Eleanor? What have you done to her?”
“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that little sister of yours any longer. I’ve already seen to her. So tell me, he forgave them, then?”
What did he mean he’d seen to her? She couldn’t be…
“The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?”
“What?” I asked.
“You know, you had an easier time of it in that maze tonight than you should have.” Moody said, ignoring my questions. “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 of Krum, so that he would finish Diggory and leave your path to the Cup clear. It’s a shame really, that Eleanor pushed the two of you toward that cup early. She could have died a quick and painless death at the hands of the Dark Lord. That’s certainly not what she got from me.”
I stared at Moody. He couldn’t be…he couldn’t have done all of this…he couldn’t have killed Eleanor. He was Dumbledore’s friend, the famous Auror…the one who had caught so many Death Eaters…It made no sense…no sense at all…
The Foe-Glass standing behind Moody was sharpening, figures within it becoming more distinct as Moody aimed his wand more precisely at my chest.
“The Dark Lord didn’t manage to kill you, Potter, and he so wanted to,” he whispered. “Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him.”
Moody had opened his mouth again, ready to cast a curse. I plunged my hand into my robes for my wand, but I knew there wasn’t a chance I could reach it in time.
“Stupefy!”
There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody’s office was blasted apart. Moody was thrown backward onto the floor and suddenly Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared before me, looking down at the man who had been about to kill me.
Dumbledore stepped further into the room, his wand aimed at the now unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody. Snape followed him in, looking at his reflection within the Foe-Glass. Professor McGonagall headed straight for me, placing her arms on my shoulders.
“Come along, Potter,” she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. “Come along…hospital wing…”
“No,” Dumbledore said sharply.
“Dumbledore, he ought to – look at him – he’s been through enough tonight –“
“He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand.” Dumbledore said 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.”
“M-moody,” I stammered. “It was Moody all along. Eleanor tried to tell me…”
“This is not Alastor Moody,” Dumbledore turned to me. “You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment I realized he had taken you…I knew…
“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.”
With their instructions, McGonagall and Snape left the room. Now it was only Dumbledore, Moody, and myself. I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to do. There were a million questions running through my mind in that moment. One of them more bothersome than the rest. What happened to Eleanor?
Eventually Snape returned, and over the next half-hour I learned the truth.
My mind was beginning to feel foggy again, weighed down by the information I had taken in. It was all so complicated, it was no wonder that no one had caught on. Only Eleanor seemed to truly sense just how disturbing the person we had been calling Moody was.
With shaking legs I walked alongside Dumbledore to his office. Though seeing Sirius standing there when we walked in was a welcome comfort, having to relieve the events of this night in detail for Dumbledore was overwhelming.
Everything had to be shared, everything had to be told. Nothing could be left out, and so I did as Dumbledore asked. I told him everything I had done, everything I had seen, everything I had heard.
It felt like days had passed since I entered the maze, and at the same time it felt as though time had frozen all together and was standing still. It wasn’t until the story had been told and we had reached the hospital wing – Dumbledore, Sirius, and I – that I felt the clock begin to tick again.
When Dumbledore pushed open the door, the first thing I saw was Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped off to the side, staring apprehensively across the room where Madame Pomfrey was rapidly working. They all whipped around as we stepped into the ward. Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.
“Harry! Oh Harry!”
She started toward me but Dumbledore stepped between us. As much as I knew that she meant well, I appreciated Dumbledore’s decision to stop her.
“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 Weasleys and Hermione, “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. Her face was very white as she rounded on the others, “Did you hear? He needs quiet!”
“Headmaster…” Madame Pomfrey said, stepping away from the bed she had been at when we walked in. She approached Dumbledore and the large black dog next to him, her hands were covered in blood.
“How is she?” Dumbledore asked.
Madame Pomfrey looked back at the bed, and for the first time I realized that Eleanor was there.
“What’s happened to her?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure anyone would hear me. The words had come out in such a quiet whisper.
“We don’t know exactly,” Mrs. Weasley said, her voicing shaking and she fought off tears, “but after you came back, Hagrid went into the maze to find her. He brought her back out and –“
Mrs. Weasley brought her hand up to cover her mouth, muffling the sobs that started to burst forth as she turned from me to look at Eleanor.
“Her throat had been cut open.” Bill said stiffly. “We all thought…I mean…she looked dead…but she held on…somehow she managed to hold on…”
“You need to rest, Harry.” Mrs. Weasley said softly, directing me into one of the hospital beds.
I climbed in, not caring that I was covered in dirt and blood.
“You’ll need to drink all of this, Harry,” Madame Pomfrey said, appearing at the bedside with a purple potion bottle in hand. “It’s a potion for dreamless sleep.”
I took the potion bottle and drank from it. I’m not sure how long it took me to fall asleep, but it felt nearly instantaneous.

Draco
The common room was filled, and yet it was nearly silent. Even with the entirety of Slytherin House gathered in the room, all that could be heard was breathing, sniffling, and the occasional sobs that seemed to erupt out of Astoria from time to time.
The atmosphere was cold and thin. Even with the fireplace mere feet away from me, I felt frozen. Frozen to the bone. Frozen in time. Frozen in thought.
It had been two hours. Two long, painful, unanswered hours. Blaise had dragged Astoria and I into the castle and straight to the common room. It all felt like a blur now. The only vivid memory I could recall was the sight of Eleanor being laid on the ground, her neck torn open, her blood covering her, her body shaking as she laid there dying. It hadn’t taken long for the rest of the room to fill with our fellow Slytherins.
For the first time since we had taken seats on the couch before the fireplace, I looked up. I scanned the room, observing the faces of everyone around me. I don’t know what I would have expected. I didn’t know if it made more sense for them all to be upset or indifferent to Eleanor’s fate. But here they were, each person looking downcast, uncertain, worried…
Eleanor’s never felt at home here. She’s never believed that we were all on her side, that we wanted her to be here. In this moment though, it was clear. Though Eleanor couldn’t see it, though she couldn’t feel it, I could. I could sense it from everyone in the room. The longing for answers, the need to know if Eleanor was going to live or die. We don’t hold the same kind of bravery as Gryffindor, we don’t lust after knowledge for the same reasons the Ravenclaws do, and we don’t show our loyalty in the same ways as a Hufflepuff. But right here, right now, this is Slytherin House. We are brave, we do crave answers, and we are loyal. We’re loyal to our own. And though I know Eleanor doesn’t see it, we’re loyal to her. In this moment we’re loyal to her, and we’re all unsure what will happen. And that is enough to scare us. The uncertainty of the fate of one of our own. Someone who has fought against our every belief about her, someone who has proved that she belongs here, that she belongs with us.
As my eyes found the floor before me again, I couldn’t stop the sickening feeling that continued to fill me. Not knowing, it can be the worst kind of pain at times. To have no answers, to not know what may happen in the next moment, to not know whether you’ve lost something you want to hold close to you. Not knowing if Eleanor Potter was alive or dead, if she could ever stand a chance of surviving the damage that I saw had been done to her…it was painful. It was a pain I couldn’t describe and it was a pain like nothing I had ever felt before.
Is this what it feels like, when someone you love is dying? Is that what it would feel like if my mother were dying? My mother…my father…I could only hope that I would never have to feel this pain for them. But what would they say now? What would they say if they knew the pain that I felt at the idea of Eleanor dying? Would my father frown upon that? How could he ever care about her, a Potter? I couldn’t imagine if Eleanor being the way she was would make a difference to him or not. She’s not like Potter. She’s nothing like him at all. Eleanor Potter is dark, and powerful. She practices Dark Magic, reads the darkest kinds of books that she’s stolen from the library late at night. She isn’t close to Potter, she probably never will be. Would any of that make her different to him. Or would he only see her for her name? Would he only see her as an enemy?
“Do you think she’s going to be all right?” Astoria’s voice cracked as she quietly spoke up.
It was the first word that had been said since we entered the common room. It was the only thing anyone had said in the past two hours as we sat here waiting for answers.
I swallowed hard, wanting to say something, anything. But I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if she would be all right, I didn’t know what would happen next.
“I’m sure she’ll be all right.” Blaise said. “She’s tough…”
Suddenly there were footsteps, and my head snapped up. I turned to the entrance of the common room to find that Snape had just walked in, the wall melting back into place behind him.
He seemed surprised, taken aback by the sight of us all. He held a strange expression, what looked like a mixture of stress and sadness, but then a flash of resolve seemed to fill his eyes as he looked around the room.
“Miss Potter has been treated.” He said quietly, not needing to speak loudly to reach all of our ears through our own silence. “We believe she’ll make a full recovery, but we aren’t certain when she’ll be able to leave the hospital wing. She may not wake for a few days still. I suggest you all head off to bed.”
Without further explanation, Snape turned on his heel and left. The silence after his words was almost somehow deafening. It was as though my ears were ringing, his words echoing around in my head.
She was alive.
“All right everyone,” a seventh year stood up, his prefect badge prominent on his robes, “you heard him. Let’s head off to bed. Maybe we’ll know more in the morning.”
Chairs scrapped against the floor as people stood and the sound of footsteps filled the space as everyone made their way toward their dorms. Almost everyone.
Within a minute, the room was empty except for Zabini, Astoria, and myself.
“She’s going to be all right…” Blaise said, though he didn’t sound certain. He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince us.
All I could do was hope that he was right though.

Harry
I had no idea how long it had been when I started to wake up. All my brain could manage to think of was how warm and tired I was. I tried to keep my eyes closed, I tried to hold on to the silence of my dreamless sleep, but the whispers found their way to my ears anyhow.
“They’ll wake him if they don’t shut up!”
“What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?”
I opened my eyes, my vision blurry. Someone had taken my glasses off of me while I slept. All I could make out were the blurry outlines of Bill and Mrs. Weasley close by.
“That’s Fudge’s voice,” she whispered. “And that’s Minerva McGonagall, isn’t it? But what are they arguing about?”
As my mind began to catch up to what was happening around me, I could hear their voices too, drifting in from the corridor outside the hospital wing.
“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 –“
The doors of the hospital wing burst open. As everyone turned toward the people walking into the ward, I groped for my glasses on the side table. When I found them I slipped them back on, and everyone around me came into focus.
“Where’s Dumbledore?” Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
“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 doors opened again, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.
“What has happened?” He asked sharply, looking from Fudge to 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!”
I had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this.
“When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight’s events,” said Snape, bringing my attention to him for the first time, “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!” Professor McGonagall fumed. “I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but –“
“My dear woman!” Fudge roared, “as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous –“
“The moment that – that thing entered the room,” McGonagall screamed, pointing at Fudge while trembling all over, “it swooped down on Crouch and – and –“
No one needed her to finish her sentence. We all knew exactly what had happened. The fatal Dementor’s Kiss had been administered to Barty Crouch Jr.
“By all accounts, he is no loss!” Fudge blustered. It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!”
“But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge. “He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people.”
“Why he killed them? Well that’s no mystery, is it? 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!”
“Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said. “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 around, dazed and blinking. He looked as though he were struggling to comprehend what was being said. Then he began to sputter at Dumbledore.
“You-Know-Who…returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…”
“As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you,” Dumbledore said, “we heard Barty Crouch 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. He confessed to trying to murder Eleanor Potter. Their plans have worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort return. Harry witnessed Lord Voldemort’s rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office.”
Fudge stood there, unmoving, staring at Dumbledore.
“You are – er – prepared to take Harry’s word on this, are you, Dumbledore?”
“Certainly, I believe Harry.”
“You expect me to believe his word, after everything, after all the tales he’s told?”
“Look, I saw Voldemort come back!” I spoke up for the first time, trying to get out of the bed, but Mrs. Weasley’s hands forced me back. “I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy –“
Snape made a sudden movement, but when I looked at him his eyes flew back to Fudge.
“Malfoy was cleared!” said Fudge, visibly affronted. A very old family – donations to excellent causes –“
“MacNair! Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle –”
“For heaven’s sake, Dumbledore – the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too – his tales are getting taller and you’re still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snake’s Dumbledore, and you still think he’s trustworthy?”
“You fool!” Professor McGonagall cried. “Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! Eleanor Potter! These crimes were not the random work of a lunatic!”
“Now see here,” Fudge shouted, waving a threatening finger. “I’ve given you free rein, Dumbledore, 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 yours students without reference to the Ministry. But if you’re going to work again 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.
“He can’t be back, Dumbledore,” Fudge said quietly, shaking his head, “he just can’t be…”
Fudge turned and walked away, continuing to shake his head. It wasn’t until he reached the end of the ward that he turned back around and strode up to my bed again.
“Your winnings,” he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto my bedside table. “One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…”
Then he left without another word or another glance at any of us.
“There is work to be done,” Dumbledore said as the door closed behind Fudge. “Molly…am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?”
“Of course you can,” said Mrs. Weasley. She was white faced but 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,” Dumbledore said. “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,” Bill said, standing up. “I’ll go now.”
“Excellent,” Dumbledore said. “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,” Bill said before he clapped a hand over my shoulder supportively. Then he turned to Mrs. Weasley and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he pulled on his cloak and left the ward.
“Minerva,” Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall, “I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also – if she will consent to come – Madame Maxime.”
McGonagall left without word.
“And now,” he said, “it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius…if you could resume your usual form.”
The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, he had turned back into a man.
“Sirius Black!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked, her eyes wide as she pointed at him.
“Mum, shut up!” Ron yelled. “It’s okay!”
“Him!” Snape snarled, staring at Sirius who stared back in equal dislike. “What is he doing here?”
“He is here at my invitation,” Dumbledore answered, “as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other.”
That seemed impossible. If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that Sirius and Snape were sworn enemies. They hated each other completely.
“I will settle, in the short term for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us.”
Slowly, the two considered each other. Then Sirius and Snape moved toward one another and shook hands. It was so quick it was almost as if it hadn’t happened at all.
“That will do to be going on with,” Dumbledore said. “Now I have work for each of you. Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupid, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher – the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin’s for a while; I will contact you there.”
“But –“ I started. I didn’t want him to leave. I needed him here, now, more than ever.
“You’ll see me very soon, Harry,” Sirius said, turning to me. “I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah…of course I do.”
Sirius turned from me to look toward Eleanor’s bed. She was still lying there, motionless, eyes closed. She looked dead, gone completely.
“Watch over her, Harry. She needs you.” Sirius said. He turned back to me and grasped my hand tightly. Then all too soon he was gone, walking back down the ward as he transformed back into the large black dog.
“Severus,” Dumbledore continued on, no time to lose, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…”
“I am,” said Snape.
“Then good luck,” Dumbledore said, watching Snape closely.
Snape looked from Dumbledore to Eleanor, but his gaze didn’t linger on her for long. Soon enough he was leaving just as Sirius had, his cloak sweeping out behind him as he turned into the corridor.
“I must go downstairs,” Dumbledore said, finally turning back to the rest of us. “I must see the Diggorys. Harry – take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later.”
And just as quickly as everyone else had, Dumbledore left. I slumped back against the pillows on my bed, my head spinning. I could feel Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley’s eyes on me, but none of them spoke for a very long time.
“How is she?” I asked.
Mrs. Weasley turned away from me finally, her eyes finding Eleanor instead.
“She’s going to make it Harry. But she…she lost a lot of blood, and it was so traumatic…we’re not sure what exactly to expected. We don’t know when she’ll wake.”
Mrs. Weasley turned back to me, her eyes filled with tears. She hadn’t even met Eleanor before today, and yet her heart ached for her. It was written all over her face. She had so much love to give and she was willing to open her arms to not only me but to Eleanor as well without a second thought.
“You’ve got to take the rest of your potion, Harry.” Mrs. Weasley said. She reached over to the side table to grab the potion bottle, her hand nudging the sack of gold that Fudge had left there.
“I don’t want that gold,” I told her. “You can have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn’t have won it. It should’ve been Cedric’s.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Harry.” Mrs. Weasley whispered.
I could feel the corners of my eyes stinging, and I blinked up at the ceiling. It was overwhelming. It was all too much.
“Your potion, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley held out the bottle to me.
I took it from her and tilted it back. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over me and I no longer had to think of everything that happened. Not for a time at least.