The Story of Sheila Riddle (Harry Potter Fanfic)

Chapter 20

Sheila was now in third year. And along with third year had come some changes. Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Students from the wizarding schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were now staying at Hogwarts in order to see the event. 

The school champions were as follows: Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, a pretty girl who caught all the boys' eyes because of her veela ancestry; Viktor Krum, a famous Quidditch Seeker; and both Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter from Hogwarts.

People had been outraged when the Goblet of Fire had chosen Potter's name seemingly by accident, but nothing had been done about it. Sheila was half hoping the boy would die during the tournament.

Aside from that, the only thing changed had been the presence of a new teacher. Mad-eye Moody, who happened to be an auror, had taken over Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. He was very strange, to say the least. Sheila personally did not like him very much, seeing as he had turned her godson into a white ferret at one point.

Sheila had been able to speak to her dear friend, Narcissa again. She had already been invited to their lovely mansion for several visits. Draco, now aware of her true identity, seemed to have shied away from her, obviously uncomfortable at the truth about her.

It was the Yule Ball, and Sheila stood alone. She remembered the time when she had attended a dance similar to this one. But things had been so different then. She'd had Tom then.

Instead of a red dress, she now wore a blue one. She didn't like the color, but it was the best dress her wardrobe had had to offer. She had no partner to dance with; as she had not much looked forward to the event, she had turned down everyone who had asked her. For one night, she was going to take a page out of Snape's book, and wallow in her miseries. 

As if on cue, Snape suddenly appeared at her shoulder.

"What is it? You haven't got a dance partner either?" she asked coldly.

She had not lost her unkindly feeling for him since their argument in first year. 

"I have no mysterious letters to speak of," he answered calmly.

Sheila cast him a sidelong glance. Was he trying to be funny?

But she wasn't in the mood to be bothered by Severus. She walked away, exiting the Great Hall. She'd had enough; she wanted to be alone and away from the noise. 

Suddenly she spotted a figure down a corridor. Mad-eye Moody appeared to have had the same idea in mind as her. Curiosity abruptly seized Sheila. She cast the Concealment Spell on herself and followed him as he limped on his wooden leg up to his office.

He stumbled across the room, apparently in great discomfort. Sheila was beginning to recognize the symptoms, and her eyes fell on the box toward which he was limping.

In an instant, she had lifted the spell on herself and flung herself across the room, grabbing the box and leaping away toward the door. She knew now exactly what was in it: Polyjuice Potion.

"What the..."

Mad-eye spun around and pulled out his wand, staring at the intruder.

"Well, it's not every day I catch an imposter," Sheila said airily, "You should probably have a seat. You're not looking so good. Your Polyjuice Potion will wear off in a minute and I can see who you really are..."

Almost before she had even finished the sentence, Mad-eye fired a curse at her. She saw it coming even before he had acted, and she dodged it narrowly. She quickly tucked the box under one arm and drew her wand, striking Moody with a silent spell and hurling him across the room. He crashed into a pile of things and lay floundering in the mess for a second or two before he was on his feet again.

"Don't try it!" Sheila cried, "Or I'll smash the contents of this box. It takes a month to make Polyjuice Potion, so don't be stupid!"

Mad-eye froze, still keeping his eyes on her. Then suddenly he pitched backward and began to morph in appearance. His hair became long and dark. The fake eye fell off, as did the wooden leg. His eyes became a cold blue and the heavy overcoat hung loosely on his shoulders. Sheila found herself staring at Barty Crouch Junior, one of her brother's most dedicated followers that she had known from her past as a Death Eater. Sudden revulsion welled in her as she remembered the unpleasant memories of having to endure Barty's lingering stares. He had always desired her, but only as a thing for him to toy with. The wild look had not left him, and the constant flicking in and out of his tongue which he had developed a habit of even back in the days of Tom's glory, repulsed Sheila further. But how was he there? How was he alive? After Tom's fall from power when the Death Eaters were being rounded up, Barty Jr. had been caught and sentenced to Azkaban, where he had died not long after.

"Barty," Sheila gasped, "How are you alive?"

Barty picked himself up off the floor, refusing to take his eyes off her.

"How do you know me?" he asked quietly.

"I'm the younger sister of the Dark Lord you undoubtedly still serve."

"Liar," Barty snapped, "Sheila is gone. Vanished. Perhaps even dead."

"Then how would I even know that the Dark Lord had a sister?" Sheila challenged, "My name is Sheila Riddle and I spent the greater part of my years locked away in a lab of my own creation. Perhaps you remember that?"

Sheila stopped. An odd light had come into Barty's eye. He looked her up and down hungrily and she suppressed a shudder. 

"Sheila," he echoed softly, "Does this mean...it worked? Your Rebirth Spell?"

He edged closer. Sheila took a step back.

"Yes," she said, setting down the box of Polyjuice Potion on a nearby desk, "But you haven't answered my question."

Barty's eyes moved to the box she had just discarded.

"Polyjuice Potion," he said, "It saved my life. My mother drank it so she could look like me. Then she switched places with me in Azkaban, and I returned home."

Images of the Crouch family's luxurious home sprang into Sheila's mind, but she suppressed them quickly. She never wanted to think of it again.

"So what have you been doing all this time?" she asked coolly.

"Hiding under an Invisibility Cloak. Until my master came and freed me."

"What?"

"He's back," Barty said, "The Dark Lord has returned and will rise again!"

"And what are you doing here?" 

Barty smirked, "Making sure Potter wins the Tournament. The Dark Lord wants him for his ritual, the ritual that will return him to bodily form."

"...I see," Sheila muttered.

She had more questions, but she could save them for later. For now, she just wanted to get away. She made for the door, but Barty grabbed her.

As his fingers closed around her forearm, she was suddenly plunged into a memory, one she despised for all she was worth. It was a memory of herself intertwined with the man standing before her, alone in the darkness and warmth of his bedroom. It had been a moment of weakness; her hunger for affection had been too strong, and he had given her what she wanted. It had been a night when she was feeling unbearably lonely, and he had convinced her to come to his home instead of returning to her lab. And once he had got her there...

But, no, she didn't want to remember. She didn't want to remember the real reason she had come to hate him. She didn't want to recall the event that had led to her pregnancy, which she had concealed from everyone. It hadn't even lasted that long, only a month or so. Due to her self-neglect during the long days spent in her lab, the baby had died in the womb.

The guilt had haunted her ever since, most noticeably when she had first held Draco in her arms. In that moment, she couldn't help wondering what her own baby would have been like. And being offered the role of godmother, it was like a second chance. But she had ruined that too.

She wrenched herself free from Barty's grip. She could hardly keep back the burning tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

"L-leave me alone!" she snarled.

She ran from the office, slamming the door shut behind her.