Chapter Thirty Nine

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When Annabeth woke up, it was loud. She was too groggy to make out words, but she heard two voices, a woman and two men. She got the sense that she hadn't been asleep for very long; the room seemed to be dark and she was still exhausted. She wanted to sink back into sleep, but Percy's knuckles brushed hers and she knew he saw she was up.

She opened her eyes. She was right; it was still dark outside the windows. Vera and Freddie weren't there. They had probably gone to go find Daisy, or they might have gone off to find Voldy Warts and kill him. Either one was likely. Percy kissed her knuckles and put a finger to his lips, tilting his head towards the door.

As if on cue, Fudge pudding man burst into the hospital wing, followed closely by McGonagall and Snape. He walked right up to Mrs. Weasley faster than necessary.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded.

"He's not here," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to—"

"What has happened?" Dumbledore swept through the already open door, not bothering to close it behind him. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you, I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—" Barty Crouch!?

"There is no need to stand guard over him, Dumbledore!" McGonagall said loudly. "The Minister has seen to that!"

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," Snape said in a low voice, "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!" McGonagall all but yelled. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but—"

"My dear woman!" Fudge interrupted, fuming just as much as McGonagall was. "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether i wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous—-"

McGonagall spoke over him. "As soon as that— that thing entered the room," she screamed, "it swooped down on Crouch and— and—"

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" Fudge exclaimed. "It seems he had been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give a testimony, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. His voice was level, but his cold stare spoke wonders. "He cannot give evidence on why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" Fudge yelled, still in a voice so loud it hurt Annabeth's head. "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!"

Oh boy. "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 like he'd been slapped in the face by a wombat. "You-know-who... returned? Preposterous. Come, now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," Dumbledore continued, "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 Jorkens, went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry and Annabeth. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge said, and he was actually smiling a little, like this was all an elaborate joke. "You— you can't seriously believe that. You-know-who... back? Come now, come now, certainly certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon you-know-who's orders, but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

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