XXIV. THE DEVIL'S REVELATION
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❝My future's light is becoming darker
I know everything❞
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EVER SINCE SHE COULD REMEMBER, Lucia's years in Hogwarts had always been peaceful — well, as peaceful as it could be anyway. Nonetheless, peaceful. Yet, as she arrived for her fourth year, somehow, there was a shift in reality.
Maybe it was just her severe case of paranoia speaking for her, but consequently after Harry's name burst out from that damn goblet, she'd been overthinking of the worst-case scenario, not to mention being more of a worry wart than she should be.
It felt somewhat foreign for her to worry this much for someone other than herself, but here she was, in the middle of the term, still fussing over the tournament like she was the one participating in it, all because her friend might get murdered because of it.
Friend... she wondered a little too many times how long she could still use that term when she describes Harry. How long can their friendship last?
The fact that she didn't know the answer to that was quite frightens her a bit.
Well, that's not the point right now. The point was that after the second task, the feeling of dread once again dawned on her. How she knew that you may ask? You could say that sleep, to her, was a gift that many possess. Things began to escalate more quickly than she could imagine, and by escalate quickly she meant that the restless night she thought to only be a fleeting nightmare came back into her sleeping routine.
And what was worse was that all she could dream was the face of her own Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Mad-Eye Moody.
There were no dreams that told her she would be failing or passing her exams like usual, only the dream that told her to be suspicious of her teacher, who may or may not be who he says he is.
Sure, she suspected him to be the perpetrator, but she've yet to figure out what his motives could be, so she had put the investigation on hold. She guessed all these nightmares she've been getting was a sign for her to get back to the topic at hand, as much as she dreaded so... But how could she actually prove her suspicions toward the professor?
She couldn't just accuse him blindly without facing any consequences, hence she decided one thing: Do some nosy business that only her friends would try.
It wasn't an easy feat, and not to mention how she couldn't get into Moody's office at all. With that magical eye of his, she would only get caught and who knows what punishment that could lead up to... expulsion? That could be a risk. So, she confided the library, sneaking in late in the night and hoping Madam Pince, the Hogwarts librarian, didn't take notice of her.
Now that was the hardest thing she had ever done. Going against Madam Pince in her very own territory was a suicide mission that she achieved, something she was sure to tell her children one day. And when you snuck into the Restricted Section of the library there would definitely be high of achievements that you never thought you could actually achieve, though she could only spend a few hours before Madam Pince could do her daily rounds of dusting her beloved books.
It was a start of many secret research all for many different topics.
When days became weeks, you tend to get tired of the whole charade. Exceptionally and unnaturally tired. Her friends and fellow Gryffindors would occasionally jump, startled by her sudden presence and appearance that resembled so much of a... panda.
During the middle of the night, it was much scarier in the girls' dormitory when they get up to go to the loo, or drink some water just to see eyes were following you absentmindedly in the dark.
Let's just say Lucia's dormmates were hoping that she would go back to her old ways of when she rarely goes to sleep, but also didn't act like a bloody ghost.
Every time during breakfast, Ron would scold her continuously for not eating or not getting enough sleep, reminding her so much of her mum; Hermione helped Ron out with scolding the girl every night when she realised that she wasn't sleeping just yet, and that scolding became a long boring lecture that she had to endure until she had to forcefully pretend she was asleep just to get out of it.
"What's going on with you? I reckon we must get you to Madam Pomfrey —"
"This late in the night?" Lucia wrapped her blanket around herself like a burrito, "I'm not going to bother her over something so trivial," she said stubbornly.
"But it isn't trivial! This could affect your health!" Hermione argued. "Also, it's her job! She takes care of those who's in need of help and she took a pledge for it!"
Lucia frowned, rolling to her side, "Just drop it, Granger."
While Ron and Hermione were fretting over her lack of energy, Harry was more in the observing side. He watched it all happen, though he secretly knew what she actually does during the night. She was studying.
Harry, one night, decided to come down to the common room all for the reason to calm his mind after not being able to sleep when he caught the girl oddly doing planks, while simultaneously reading through dozens and dozens dozens and dozens of books and parchment surrounding her as though she was solving a case that was hard to be solve.
And she was hellbent on solving this unknown case of hers.
One time, when Lucia had accidently doze off in the common room, he decided to look at what books she was reading and what kind of reports she was writing endlessly on her what looks like a four feet roll of parchment.
"Moste Ponte Potions?" he whispered to himself when he saw he familiar book that was clutched to her chest like an uncomfortable teddy bear along with her stuffed bunny, Mr. Bao. It was odd to him as to why she needed that book — what was odder was how she got that book in the first place, when it he was certain it was hidden in the restricted section.
He would know; he actually, legally, borrowed and not stole that book in their second year with Ron and Hermione before.
When he moved on to her script-filled parchments, he read: Polyjuice Potion and How to Detect Them.
Harry was curious. Why was she researching this type of stuff?
Was this her way of studying?
That couldn't be it, he thought carefully. Lucia was good enough at Potions that even Snape would be a fool to not acknowledge it, so why?
Well, her mind did work in a mysterious way that only people with an open mind could understand. Perhaps that's why he wanted to know more about her now... He always wondered how the mindset of everything being possible if you try hard enough came into her mind. He never met anyone like that before, which maybe made him ever-so intrigued by her.
Despite everyone belittling her for her academics, her skills were not something to be laught at, and he wished that people would stop underestimating. She's brighter than everyone made her out to be, and he realised that a little later than he should've. The way her eyes shone with stars that form a beautiful constellation as she craved knowledge in her own way.
And that was because he knew that she was aware of her limits that laid dormant in her, even without herself acknowledging it just yet.
He glanced up to the sleeping figure in the armchair with a soft and adoring smile that he'd never thought he could muster up. "You're incredible," he whispered, moving strands of her hair to the side.
So, unbeknownst to her, he sworn to secrecy until she opted to tell them about her late rendezvous with her research, calling Dobby occasionally to help him out in cleaning before dawn and make her feel more comfortable with some chocolate milk and some chicken salad that she likes to replenish her energy.
He could tell their friends about what her research was, but when it came to Lucia, Harry was no snitch.
That would prove him to be a bad Seeker if he were to be the snitch that a Seeker should be catching instead.
As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. It sure did woke Lucia up from her countless mumbling daze.
It didn't bother Harry as much as it did before, but it did worried Ron and Hermione more.
There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.
Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.
Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.
"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" said Ron incredulously, holding Lucia's head up by her back-collar before her face could plop down into her bowl of cereal.
"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.
"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught..."
"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" said Ron. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."
"W-Who are we talking about?" Lucia yawned, rubbing her eyes and smacking Ron's hand away, feeling ticklish. All three of them tensed. They thought she was still sleeping...
"No one!" they chorused.
Unlikely. "O-Okay then..." she feigned a look of oddity. "By the way... what's our first class of the day again?"
"Potions —"
"No..." she whined.
"There, there," Ron patted her back in coy consolation, reaching for her spoonful of her cereal from her bowl, "eat your cereal," he said and shoved the into the ebony-haired mouth.
Lucia chews the cornflakes, nodding absentmindedly as Ron continued to feed her.
As the four descended down to the dungeons for Potions, they saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something that Lucia couldn't see. They started sniggering heartily.
Pansy's pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia approached.
"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. It was then Lucia could see that Pansy had a magazine in her hands — Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.
"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at them. Lucia swiftly caught it and gave it to Hermione, too tired to even bother to read.
Somehow, whatever the context of the magazine had, it caused Hermione to look startled. Curious as to what it was, Lucia peered Hermione's shoulder, but before she could concentrate on reading the article, at that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.
They headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of today's potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry, Ron, and Lucia leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:
Harry Potter's Secret Heartache
A bitter feeling animated in her stomach as she thought, Did Harry already confess to Cho?
A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."
Lucia side-glanced at Hermione, who was silently fuming. "She... she called you plain..."
"I'm insulted," Hermione said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes and a smile appearing on her lips...
However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
"We told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "we told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of — of scarlet woman!"
Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.
"Y-You can't be — uh — serious, right?" Lucia said, "We're not in the 19th century anymore. Though... I could see why you're stuck there..." she giggled with Hermione at Ron attempted use of the term.
"Shove off. It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.
"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."
She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Lucia, Harry, and Ron started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.
"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"
"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"
"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just...how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"
Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.
"What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.
"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to —"
"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.
"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now.
Lucia gushed, "Ooooh," she teased before halting from grinding her beetles and furrowing her eyes. "I just realised that he's older than you... isn't that... a bit, well, weird?" she added quietly to Harry, who spare her an amused gaze before shrugging.
"Anyway," Hermione coughed, "how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there... or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."
"If she did used an Invisibility Cloak, Moody would have already caught her with that bloody" — Lucia began to harshly pound her scarabs, irritated, clenching her jaw — "magical eye of his. Like, has he ever taken that off — ?"
"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard — harder than how Lucia did it, causing it to dent the desk.
"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to —"
"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all four of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."
Snape had glided over to their desk whilst they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.
"Ah... reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor... oh but of course..." Snape's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..."
The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To Harry's fury, he began to read the article aloud.
"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache' ...dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"
Lucia felt pitiful for both Harry and Hermione, whom she began to feel the embarrassment seeping through her skin from. They were blatantly being humiliated by Snape, who was taking in this moment like a grain of sugar, loving every moment of this as he paused at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape.
"'...Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Malfoy, Zabini, make room for Miss DiFiore. And Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter — that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."
Lucia couldn't believe it. She was forced to sit alongside the people that would make fun of for no apparent reason, it was just absurd.
And the worse part was the fact that Snape, himself, knew about such things.
As she collected her belongings and made her way to where Malfoy and his posse were sitting at, she could tell that their plan indeed backfired by the look of their disgusted expressions. She plopped down her stuff harshly on the table without any warning, startling them a bit
"What are you looking at?" she snapped at the Slytherins that were surrounding her, not with their usual disgusted expression they would have whenever a Gryffindor pass by or was around them. At that, they hastily resumed grinding their beetles, not wanting to be met by her, for once, dangerous gaze, hands quivering in the process.
She silently scowled and started to sprinkle her powdered beetles into her potion, watching as it turns red in colour.
Working with the Slytherins weren't as bad as she thought; none of them bothered to utter out any insults at her — not even Malfoy, who was beside her, working on his potion. It was a moment of bliss, taking in the calm and unbothered moment while she could as peace, for Lucia, when it came to some people like Malfoy, was never an option.
"No... No insults?" Lucia asked quietly at Malfoy.
He heard her well enough but chose to ignore her.
She watched her mixture turned yellow after she had added some more armadillo bile. "So... um..."
Malfoy clenched his jaw. "Shut up, DiFiore."
Lucia frowned. "I was just trying to make a conversation..." she said, before she edged Malfoy on. "S-So, what is with you and Harry?"
"None of your business," said Malfoy.
"Well... when it comes to Harry, it kind of is my business now..."
"He and I are just enemies, now leave me alone."
"Enemies... that's another way to say that you're obsessed to get validation from him and it's pathetic."
"That's rich coming from you," said Malfoy, sneering at her. "You, Weasley, and Granger follow Potter around like some lost puppies with their owner."
"Funny, because the last time I check, you're the one that follows him around," she remarked.
"Will you two shut up," Zabini hissed, tired of their quiet argument already. "Some of us aren't good at Potion. Of course I am, but these" — he beckoned over to Crabbe and Goyle — "idiots aren't. By the way, Malfoy, help me out with this,"
Lucia privately snorted. There was no way Malfoy would try and help others that wouldn't even benefit himself —
"It's not yellow because you didn't add the armadillo bile, Zabini," said Malfoy exasperatedly. "You would've thought that you'd do better than DiFiore since you could read..."
"Hey, leave me alone," mumbled Lucia. "Also, I can read just perfectly."
Malfoy and Zabini only waved her off, disregarding her frown. She scowled before realising that Malfoy actually did help Zabini. Perhaps he owed Zabini something, because there was no way Malfoy would actually try and help Zabini...
"Crabbe, Goyle, you two are doing it wrong — completely useless!" He said to his 'bodyguards'.
Lucia watched in awe. This was a rare sight to behold, it also didn't feel real whatsoever. Malfoy actually cared for his friends? Though, his insults every time he wanted to help them seem to be the highlight of it all. Aww, he actually cares...
Weird.
Wait till Ron and Harry hears this, she thought.
"Is that — um — actually Malfoy?" Lucia muttered in disbelief.
Zabini let out a slight chuckle. "Of course that's Malfoy, unless someone used Polyjuice Potion to become him?" Noticing her blank expression, he smirked. "See, Slytherins aren't that bad."
"I've never generalised Slytherins, for your information," she snapped at him. "But I do applaud to you, now knowing that you and Malfoy, and others in your little group are friends. However, it does not change the fact that many of you are jerks."
Zabini frowned slightly and was about to retort when a knock could be heard on the dungeon door.
"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.
The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.
"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist.
"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.
"I want to talk now, whilst you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."
"After the lesson," Snape snapped.
Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class...
"Duck!" Lucia heard Zabini said.
"Where?" she looked around.
"Idiot," Malfoy muttered before pulling her to the side.
Lucia started to retort until she saw what happened; she had almost been hit hard on the head by a ginger root...
"I'm waiting," said Malfoy, breaking her away from her thoughts.
She quirked a brow at him. "Waiting for what?"
"Oh, I don't know? Maybe a thank you?"
Lucia winced. Just because Malfoy had saved her from having a concussion that was caused by a mere ginger root, doesn't mean she wanted to thank him for it. She never would imagine herself thanking Malfoy for something. Not at all. Between thanking him or getting hit by a ginger root, she much rather freeze to death in the Black Lake than to thank him.
She licked her chap lips, bracing herself for something she had never thought she would ever do. "T-Thank..."
"Thank...?" Malfoy was eating this moment up like it was his favourite food.
"Thank..."
"Come on," Malfoy grinned, taking this moment with a spoonful of sugar, "Almost there,"
"— you..." she mumbled.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you!" he asked, simpering.
Lucia glared at him before inhaling sharply and went for it. "Thank you, Malfoy."
"Oh, this is rich — richer than me even!" Malfoy howled with laughter.
"Oh, go away, you git!" Lucia rolled her eyes and stirred her mixture while Malfoy couldn't help but put a smirk on his lips that was very tempting to Lucia.
Tempting to be slapped.
"Put it away!" snarled Snape suddenly, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.
Lucia jumped and quickly collected her ingredients and bag, but just as she was about to follow the rest of the class out, Karkaroff bumped shoulder with her and strode out of the dungeon without a simple apology. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape.
"Jeez, what the bloody is the matter with him," she seethed as Harry seizing her arm and the two leaving the dungeon classroom.
"I'll tell you later. We have to find Ron and Hermione first."
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It was the day of another anticipated Hogsmeade visit, yet Lucia was in the common room, surrounded by those younger than her whilst her friends and peers were out having fun. Well, it wasn't like she would be having fun anyway if she were to go. Ginny was out on a date, Astoria was was forced to accompany her sister, Neville had a scheduled outing with Seamus and Dean to the Shrieking Shack for God knows why, Lavender and Parvati were off ogling some Beauxbatons boys while they could, and don't get her started on Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
The three of them were off to do some top-secret mission, and Lucia knew that even without being told. So instead having to suffer roaming around Hogsmeade absentmindedly and alone, she rather continue on with her investigation.
Sherlock Holmes, who? She only knew Lulock Dolmes.
Okay, maybe it sounded better in her head...
But in all seriousness, she needed to figure who the imposter is and where was the real Moody hidden as soon as possible. Her stomach churned at the mere thought of the third task, which only further her determination to figure this out before Harry or any of the champions could step foot into the third task.
She was very much impressed. Although there were many times in which she procrastinated, even going as far as to 'helping' out a first-year student with their homework and running around the castle just to avoid the very task, she still managed to go through every single page of Moste Ponte Potions. Though, she wasn't even sure she had load in every information that was there in the book. However, she did understand the most important information regarding the Polyjuice Potion.
And that was: The effect could run out in just a few hours, depending on how the wizard were to brew them. But never could it last for a whole damn year.
Which meant the real Moody had to be inside the castle... somewhere in which no one can get him... but somewhere near where the imposter Moody could reach him whenever he can without attracting attention to himself. But where could that —
"Of course!"
"Lucia, are you okay?" Dennis Creevey asked the girl that was sitting beside him.
"O-Oh, yeah," she waved him off with a smile. "Don't mind me," she said reassuringly, and Dennis shrugged as he continued on with his homework.
Lucia got up from the armchair in deep thought, exiting out of the common room, going down for dinner as the sun began to set, noting the end of the Hogsmeade visit. Going down to the Great Hall, she saw students returning from their trip, yet Lucia couldn't even be bothered to feel a single feeling of envy, too caught up in her own thoughts.
That's it. It just has to be there, where else in the castle than not the very place he sleeps in?
The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, or better yet, his office.
She halted in her steps, clutching her sketchbook against her chest as subtly she stared at the door that led to the said office. Apart of her wanted to barge in right there and then, but the shrewd part of her forced her to retreat and continue with her tracks.
She told herself, "Don't think much about how to get in that bloody office now," However, the fact that she have yet to figure who the perpetrator is was what bothering her. It made her more wary than ever.
There was no doubting that this person had ulterior motives, and that so happens to be putting Harry in a dangerous situation that could inevitably lead to his death. That was their intent, right? She just couldn't think of anything other than that.
When you think back about it, there had always been a logical explanation as to why people would want him dead... But there was this worrisome point that she had just realised: Moody already had many times in which he could've killed Harry right there and then, and could easily get away thanks to the real Moody's reputation of fighting in the war against Voldemort in the past. So, was Harry's death not the sole purpose as to why he perpetrated the castle in the first place?
The more she pondered over it, the more it didn't made sense. What's his real intent?
Whatever it was, she didn't want him to stick around any longer to find out.
Lucia heaved out a sigh, entering the bustling Great Hall and going over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting, talking.
"How was your trip?" she asked, sitting down beside Ron, placing her sketchbook beside her.
"Pretty ordinary," they told her, but Lucia didn't know who the voice belonged to, for she slowly became engrossed in her daze.
Lucia merely ladled stew in her bowl, disregarding her friends who were talking about with each other. Eating her stew, she sighed and sketched absentmindedly a lily of the valley flower on her sketchbook. She was starting to really wish that she had Harry's map... that would certainly be of help —
Hold on.
The map.
Curse her slow brain, how come she never thought about it before?
It was as though she was struck by a lightning of epiphany, dropping her pencil suddenly, going still. Slowly, her eyes rose to the large wooden doors of the Great Hall as students, teachers and staffs began to file in for dinner. Some had just returned and was as loud as ever, and apart of the new bunch was Moody.
She narrowed her eyes down at him. From here, he looked just like any other person, only fragile.
She wanted to break him into pieces, but she knew that it wasn't as easy as that.
Lucia fiddled with her pencil in one hand, and the other stirring her stew. Her gaze never falter from the imposter.
Is that why you were so nervous?
"After the fall of the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters fell into chaos. Thanks to bravery of those who had fought in the war, many Death Eaters were convicted and trialed into a lifetime in Azkaban, where they would rot mercilessly, accompanying the guards of Azkaban, the dementors,"
She admits, he was pretty cunning for fooling one of the most powerful wizards of the century and even went as far as to successfully imprisoning the most competent and vigilant Auror in the industry...
"The Wizarding World suffered for thirteen years during the reign of You-Know-Who. Many were incapacitated and were given punishment that was even worse than death itself,"
You took that map out of caution, didn't you? You were scared you would get find out.
"This just in: The Minstry of Magic have decided to transition the power of the renowned Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as the now Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, after the conviction of his son, the Death Eater —"
Her pencil danced between her fingers before she dropped it back on the surface of her sketchbook. Lucia subconsciously held her locket tightly. Unbeknownst to herself and everyone around her, her kind smile began to mask the dangerous glow of a gaze she long since forgotten as she watched him stumble up toward the staff table, talking with Hagrid.
"— you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office, did you? On this map, I mean?"
Who would have ever thought?
"Er... yeah, we did..." Harry admitted. "It was Mr. Crouch."
Moody's magical eye whizzed over the entire surface of the map. He looked suddenly alarmed.
"Crouch?" he said. "You're — you're sure, Potter?"
"Positive,"
So cunning, like a true Slytherin.
Did you fake your own death?
"Bartemius Crouch... Junior."