'He's come back,' muttered Draco, not sure if he should be thrilled about it or not. He certainly didn't feel thrilled. He felt a terrible foreboding. Life was about to change but whether it would be for the better or worse, he wasn't sure.
He watched Karkaroff flee from Uncle Sev's side, practically running towards the school gates so he could Apparate away. Draco wondered coldly how long he'd survive and found he didn't have any pity for someone he knew was a Death-Eater-turned-Informer. He chose his own path.
'Who?' said Greg.
'The Dark Lord...' whispered Draco into the uneasy silence. He studied the dark empty maze that seemed to shift uneasily at his words.
'Good!' declared Vince. 'Maybe we can get rid of some of this Mudblood scum for him. Starting with that Granger. She's too clever for my liking, it's not natural.'
Sod Vince, Draco didn't want to kill anyone. He was a fifteen-year-old kid, for fucks sake, though he wasn't sure his age had anything to do with it.
'I suggest you wait until you hear what your father has to say on these matters,' he sneered, thinking that everyone in the world was too clever compared to Vince and it was probably his stupidity that wasn't natural. 'That might not be the Dark Lord's instructions.'
Moody was pacing, positively anxious about his precious Potter, that wildness to his look as he appeared to become more and more agitated.
There was a restless whispering amongst the spectators, unease rippled through the quietness as they waited. It seemed like hours later, yet it seemed like no time at all when Potter suddenly reappeared, clutching the cup and with Diggory in his arms. He didn't move when he hit the ground, hunched over Diggory's prone figure.
A torrent of deafening sound erupted around the stadium, voices rising in volume, thundering footsteps descending down the wooden stands, screams as people realised something was seriously, seriously wrong.
Dumbledore was seizing Potter roughly and turning him over. Potter clearly unwilling to let go of what was obviously, by now, a dead body. Then people were rushing around them and Potter was sobbing as he held onto Diggory.
Suddenly a screech gasped out, 'he's dead! He's dead! Cedric Diggory! Dead!'
Panic ensued as the whisper spread through the crowd and people closed tighter around Potter and Diggory and the cup, shielding them as Diggory's parents were brought down from the stands.
It was, Draco thought, the first time he'd ever seen a dead person. He thought Diggory looked strangely clean, untouched, pure even. He'd heard his father say that the Avada Kedavra Unforgiveable didn't leave a mark on its victims so that Muggle Healers didn't understand the deaths but the Magical World did. His father said that the only person to ever show any kind of scarring from that spell was Harry Potter with his lightning-shaped scar on his forehead revealing his unique survival.
Next thing he knew was that Pansy was pushing her way along the stand and flinging herself into his arms, sobbing, for some strange reason.
He stroked her hair as he held her against him, feeling nothing for his girlfriend of five months.
He knew he'd be dumping her before they went home for the summer holidays. The relationship had been okay but didn't ignite any fires. Anyway, they both had politically-advantageous marriages arranged for the future of both family names so their relationship was no more than a passing bit of entertainment.
Then suddenly McGonagall was calling, 'where's Harry? where's Harry?' as she pushed between the people, searching for Potter.
He felt surprising numb and detached from life as he watched McGonagall, Uncle Sev, and Dumbledore rush up to the castle.
No one knew what to do, though Granger and Weasley clearly chased up to the castle too. The rest of the students waited, awaiting instruction, and watching Mr Diggory on his knees beside his son and Professor Sprout trying to comfort his wife and the Minister for Magic panicking without Dumbledore telling him what to do. His father was always saying Fudge was a weak and hopeless Minister who played straight into the Dark side's hands.
It was Professor Flitwick and Madame Maxime who gathered the prefects together and began an orderly and coordinated evacuation up to the school of the students from all three schools. The sight of the giant woman and the half-goblin man stood side-by-side should have been incongruously comical but the situation was too bloody frightening.
Minerva, Severus, and Albus arrived at the school in time to see Alastor Moody disappear up the marble stairs to the first-floor corridor as he supported the weakened and exhausted Harry.
'His office...' Albus breathed heavily as they hurriedly pursued him.
Minerva had never seen Albus so angry. There was no benign smile on his face, no twinkle in the blue eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Albus as though he was giving off burning heat. For the first time she understood how he was capable of defeating Grindelwald.
She understood too. She felt the same roaring anger.
Three wands, raised simultaneously, blew the door off its hinges and Albus instantly stunned Moody, throwing him across the room so that he slumped unconsciously against the wall.
Albus stepped into the room, placed a foot underneath Moody's unconscious body and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Severus followed, peering into Moody's Foe-Glass, his own face still visible in it, glaring into the room. Minerva wondered what that actually said about Severus; that perhaps he was to be trusted as much as Albus said.
She went straight to Harry and pulled him into her arms, hugging him securely as the boy's breath caught and he clasped her tightly. 'Come along, Harry,' she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as she fought back the tears. 'Come along... home...' she didn't care that she was supposed to be looking after hundreds of children. At the moment, her priority was her son.
'No,' said Albus sharply.
'Albus, he ought to - look at him - he's been through enough tonight -'
'He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand,' said Albus 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.'
Harry pulled out of her arms but didn't step away, instead he looked at her and gave a small nod once as if to consent to stay.
'If you're sure,' she said quietly and wiped his tear-streaked face with her thumb. He looked so pale, so shell-shocked, as she brushed his wild hair out of his eyes.
'Moody,' Harry said, sounding dazed. 'How can it have been Moody?'
'This is not Alastor Moody,' said Albus quietly. 'You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment Minerva alerted me to your absence, I knew and we followed him.'
Albus bent over Moody's limp form and removed his hip-flask and a set of keys from his pocket before he sent Severus off to retrieve the strongest truth potion he had and to find a House-Elf called Winky from the kitchens. He sent Minerva off to find a large black dog sitting in Hagrid's pumpkin patch.
When Minerva returned with who she knew full-well was Sirius Black in his Animagus form, there was an unconscious stranger tied to a chair, dressed in Moody's clothes. The wooden leg, staff and Moody's fake eye on the floor beside him.
Minerva recognised him immediately from her Ministry days. He was supposed to be dead. He reportedly died in Azkaban...
'Crouch!' Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. 'Barty Crouch Jnr.'
The large black dog sat protectively next to Harry, his head in the boy's lap and Harry played idly with one of his ears, watching the proceedings quietly, grief etched across his face, his eyes dull and haunted.
Winky was on her knees beside her master, trembling as Albus forced Crouch's mouth open and poured three drops of the Veritaserum inside it. He then pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, 'Enervate.'
'Can you hear me? Albus asked quietly.
The man's eyelids flickered.
'Yes,' he muttered.
'I would like you to tell us how you come to be here,' said Albus softly. 'How did you escape from Azkaban?'
Crouch took a shuddering breath, his tongue flicking at his lips, then he launched into explaining how his mother saved him. How they swapped places using Polyjuice Potion because she was already dying. How his father kept him hidden, like a prisoner, permanently subdued by an Imperius Curse but... he licked his lips quickly again in a way that reminded Minerva of a snake ...how he only thought to find Voldemort again and began to fight the curse as his strength returned. How Winky helped, pleading for rewards to good behaviour, like the trip to the Quidditch World Cup when he sat in the box under an invisibility cloak and stole the wand from the boy's back pocket, casting the Dark Mark because he wanted to show those Death-eaters who had never suffered for the Dark Lord, who were disloyal; he wanted to punish them. Then his master came for him and they had been reconnected. They had found out that the old Auror was going to teach at Hogwarts and arranged that Barty Crouch Jnr would take his place to put Potter's name in the Cup and guide him through the tournament so he got to the cup first. How he killed his own father because he realised and came to the school to warn Albus.
'And tonight...' Albus asked.
'I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner,' whispered Barty Crouch, licking his lips again. '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 shoulders.
'Severus, please will you get Madame Pomfrey. We need to get Alastor into the hospital wing. And then will you fetch Cornelius Fudge and bring him up here. Then you had best go, you know what is required of you now.'
Severus nodded and swept out of the room.
Albus turned to Minerva. 'Take Harry and... the dog to the cottage and recover for the night. I believe you might find Mr Weasley and Miss Granger loitering in the corridor; I suggest you take them with you. I shall be along shortly as I want to hear the rest of Harry's story about what happened tonight and I can escort Ms Granger and Mr Weasley back to the school when we're finished.'
'Professor? Cedric?' said Harry quietly, breaking Minerva's heart. She wondered what her boy hadn't told her.
'Professor Sprout is taking care of things for him and his parents.'
'Thank you,' he was crying again. He wondered if it was possible to recover from pain like this.
Harry sat in the corner of the sitting room in the cottage feeling dazed with a blanket around his shoulders and nursing a cup of sugary tea. All he wanted was to crawl into his bed and sleep for a week and shut himself off from it all. From the nightmare of Cedric's death, from the nightmare of what had happened in the graveyard. But he knew there were to be a lot more questions, he knew the evening was far from over.
Sirius was there, and Minnie, Ron and Hermione too, Remus had come too. He was grateful they were all there. They talked around him, Hermione holding his hand, rubbing it soothingly over the knuckles. Harry waited, refusing to answer any questions from the others until Professor Dumbledore arrived because he didn't want to go through events of the graveyard twice: of Cedric's death and Wormtail's sacrifice, of the drawing of his own blood and Voldemort's resurrection, of the duel and the Priori Incantatem that worked against Voldemort and saved his life so he could get back and bring Cedric's body with him. He kept seeing Wormtail cast the killing curse on Cedric, over and over again. When he blinked or shut his eyes, he just saw the green blaze from Wormtail's wand.
When he eventually arrived, Professor Dumbledore brought welcomed food but he didn't look at all happy and he wouldn't say why beyond that Fudge had immediately ordered that Crouch was given the Dementor's Kiss, without hearing his account again first and without a formal witnessed trial.
Minnie and Sirius bristled and Harry said quietly, 'so, the Minister is going to deny that Voldemort's come back.'
'Yes,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'Which means the papers will claim it's lies too. The Ministry practically owns The Prophet. We have to be prepared for repudiation of our claims.'
It was true, by mid-Summer every article in every paper, bar The Quibbler, was saying the same thing.
Indeed, on the day of Potter's birthday, Draco was sitting on his large king-size bed in Malfoy Manor, surrounded by scatterings and cuttings from every Wizarding newspaper he could lay his hands on. Every article said much the same thing: that Potter was 'The Boy who Lied' and Dumbledore was balmy, daft, or dangerous after announcing the return of the Dark Lord at the final feast of the term. The message from the Ministry (despite the thousand holes in their stories) was a clear denial of Dumbledore's claim about what had happened the night of the final Triwizard task and that Cedric Diggory's death was nothing more than a tragic accident.
Draco knew better but then his father had been there that night, wherever there was.
His father wouldn't tell him anything. No matter how many questions Draco asked. All he knew was that Dumbledore was correct.
And he knew his father was scared. He knew that because his father was living on a very short fuse and it was better that Draco and his mother stayed out of the way as much as possible because when his father was like this, well, he liked to use the Cruciatus Curse on anyone and anything that annoyed him. His father also kept being 'called away'. Draco assumed that meant summoned by the Dark Lord, he had seen his father's Dark Mark had returned to its full dense black colour after years of being a faded greyness on his pale skin.
During the times that Lucius was away, Draco and his mother tried to piece together what was happening. Obviously, they knew for certain was that the fifteen-month-old Potter had not completely vanquished the Dark Lord but he had severely weakened him into a state of half-existence. Narcissa had found out that he'd been in Albania for some time where he'd met Quirrell and possessed his body briefly. He'd retreated back to Albania after Potter and Quirrell duelled and Quirrell came out the worst for it. It was in Albania where the Dark Lord had met Bertha Jonkins, a Ministry worker on Crouch Senior's team. She'd had her memory modified, badly, and was later killed by the Dark Lord. But first, he'd gleaned from her fragmented mind that Barty Crouch Jnr was still alive, being kept prisoner by his father, so he returned to England to find Crouch. On the 24th June just past, with the aid of Peter Pettigrew, one of James Potter's closest friends, and Barty Crouch Jnr, now deceased, plus a ceremony that involved Potter, the Dark Lord had risen again and summoned his followers.
Draco's mother relayed in a somewhat hushed tone that Lucius had witnessed the Dark Lord duelling with Potter and Potter had bested him, returning to Hogwarts with Cedric Diggory's body. They both surmised it was pure luck on Potter's part for who could truly beat the Darkest Wizard of all times; certainly not a fourteen-year-old half-blood.
Lucius had let slip that the Dark Lord was furious, not just about the defeat but also with the number of Death-Eaters who'd either not looked for him in his absence or who had denied their loyalty to avoid imprisonment. That number included Lucius, despite him managing to keep his current position as the Dark Lord's right-hand man. They all knew that position was precarious. Lucius also let slip that many Death-Eaters were caught between being scared of the Dark Lord's vengeful wrath and the power of a fourteen-year-old boy who was capable of duelling and beating the supposed most powerful wizard in all time with magic many were unaware of. Some had quietly expressed doubts in the Dark Lord despite his resurrection. Everyone was unsettled.
There was certainly a suggestion that it was more than luck on Potter's part.
Suddenly life seemed very serious. It was no longer a game. It was time to take sides.
Draco knew his side had been chosen for him long ago. He listened to his father talk in a low voice to his mother about a task the Dark Lord had given him. It involved retrieving some information from the Ministry which might just prove Potter's undoing and a secret weapon against Dumbledore so that the Dark Lord's aim to bring about a new powerful Pureblood regime in the Wizarding World could be realised.
Draco also knew that the philosophy sounded right, that Pureblood Wizards, such as his family, shouldn't have to bow down to the whim of Muggles and Muggle-lovers, of lesser beings and half-breeds, and especially Mudbloods who couldn't possibly be true magical beings and certainly didn't understand the old traditions and rites of the Wizarding World. He had grown up believing in the superiority of his pure bloodline and his father placed the Malfoy name akin to Muggle royalty. Draco truly believed that the mixture of magical and non-magical blood would dilute or even negate wizarding identity, no matter how clever people like Granger were. He knew it was time for power to be returned to those who it belonged to.
He ignored the niggling doubts about how, exactly, that power was to be regained and stuck to gathering the articles which claimed Potter and Dumbledore were either attention-seeking liars or delusional. No, it was time for Muggle-lovers like Dumbledore to move aside and for a new leader to return the Wizarding World to one of tried and tested traditions that reasserted the supremacy of pureblood magic.
In early-August, Potter hit the headlines again, this time for using underaged Magic. Potter claimed that Dementors had attacked him and his Muggle cousin and claimed he'd used a full-corporeal Patronus to fend off the Dementors. Potter was pulled before a full disciplinary hearing in front of the Wizengamot. It was, Draco knew, a corrupt and advantageous use of the Ministry's power that such a hearing should even be permitted. It was also blatantly clear that it was part of the smear campaign against Potter and an attempt to expel him from Hogwarts. Potter was, however, cleared of all charges. A Squib had stepped forward as a witness and Dumbledore had been there to defend Potter's case. Draco thought that all Squibs should be euthanised at birth, well, that's what his father said anyway.
Draco relished the victimisation of Potter by the Ministry; something in him suggested that Potter deserved it, especially as Potter and Dumbledore were who stood in the way of the Dark Lord's vision for a new world. Of course, it could have been a perfect opportunity to rid the Wizarding World of someone like Potter. Dumbledore was already on the way out; since announcing the Dark Lord's return, he'd been stripped of his title of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and he was removed from his post as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. His father said it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore was ousted from his position of Headmaster.
In late-August, Draco cut out the latest article that announced: under the terms of the new Educational Decree No.22 (that is, without Dumbledore's consent), the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Madame Dolores Jane Umbridge, had been appointed as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Draco raised an eyebrow. This was the Ministry making its first aggressive move against Dumbledore, to undermine Dumbledore and to monitor activities at Hogwarts. However, controlling the learning of martial magic would unwittingly aid the Dark Lord when the time came to take over. His father said the Ministry was setting itself up to be a totalitarian authority which would play into the Dark Lord's hands because when the Ministry eventually fell, the Dark Lord would be there to step in and take control of an already cowed society. The Minister was a fool.
He wondered if Umbridge was a Death-Eater. His father said not, though she had been in Slytherin House and she held many of the same values as families like the Malfoys.
***