There were gingers all along the Gryffindor table, even more than usual. Almost all the Weasleys had come to watch Harry, making the Gryffindor table look even more red than it usually did.
Lunch ended too quickly, and it was back to exams. All of them were ok, but Delilah was glad she had studied. The only ones she was truly confident in were Alchemy in Potions, but those always had been her best subjects. Charms class was also up there.
And then, as torturously and quickly as they had started, the exams were finished, and it was dinner time.
Dinner was fancy. It was normal, but the food was bigger, better, and more exotic. There also seemed to be more courses than usual. It was nice, but very filling. Delilah was full long before the food cleared itself and Dumbledore stood up. Silence fell.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
Delilah applauded with everyone as Cedric, Harry, Fleur, and Krum left the Great Hall.
True to Bagman's words, five minutes later everyone was asked to go down to the Quidditch pitch.
Delilah quickly grabbed her bag before nervously headed down, hand in hand with Draco.
"He'll be fine," he reassured her.
"I know," Delilah said with a sigh. "It's just while my brain knows he'll be fine, it can't convince my heart, you know?"
Draco slowly nodded before gasping.
"What did they do to the Quidditch Pitch?!" he exclaimed.
It was barely recognizable. There were hedges that reached so high into the sky that Delilah could barely make out the top.
"They'll get it back by next Quidditch season, don't worry."
Draco nodded, still looking like someone had hit his dog with a blue hairbrush.
Delilah gave a small smile and pulled him along to a decent seat. It was right near the middle, but still had a good view of the area.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"
Delilah clapped loudly for Harry, but still politely clapped for the other three.
"So... on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three — two — one —"
He gave a short blast on his whistle and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze. Delilah tried to watch, but before long they were out of sight. A few minutes later, Bagman turned to Krum.
"Next, Mr. Viktor Krum! On my whistle. Three — two — one —"
The whistle sounded again and Krum hurried forward. He too was out of sight a moment later.
"And lastly, Miss Fleur Delacour! On my whistle, three — two — one —"
And Fleur entered the maze. As soon as she was out of sight, the crowd grew quiet. All the champions were in the maze.
Delilah made eye contact with Fred and George, giving a subtle nod, letting them know that she had done her part of the prank. They nodded back and Delilah checked the time. In five minutes, the prank would be pulled.
Before the five minutes were up, there was a loud, piercing scream filled the air. Delilah's heart quickened, but the scream sounded female.
A minute later, red sparks went up. Delilah felt her breath quicken. It probably was Fleur, she had to be the one that screamed, but what if it was someone else? What if it was Harry? Delilah would be both relieved, and terrified. He wouldn't be in the maze, but he would have to be badly hurt to send the sparks up.
Before Delilah could worry any more, McGonagall appeared with an unconscious Fleur.
Madam Pomfrey and Madam Maxime hurried over, taking Fleur from McGonagall and carrying her over to the tent where Madam Pomfrey had set up.
Delilah glanced at Fred and George. They motioned to wait a few minutes before setting it off. She nodded, nervously tapping her fingers against her leg.
After about three minutes had passed, Delilah lit the trigger. Everything exploded into chaos.
Fireworks were going off everywhere along with smoke and glitter bombs also unleashing some nifflers. Delilah moved her and Draco's valuables into her bag, which she carefully slung over her shoulder where she could keep an eye on it before turning her eyes back to the maze.
In the chaos, no one noticed another set of red sparks in the sky. By the time people noticed it, Flitwick was already there with Krum. Based on how sweaty Flitwick was, he had tried to carry Krum before levitating him. More proof that Mobliocorpus was useful to know and did not make you a creep. When everyone saw Krum, who, like Fleur, was unconscious, there was even more chaos.
The fireworks and glitter and smoke bombs finally stopped, and the nifflers were caught. The panic died down as Flitwick levitated Krum into the Hospital Tent. McGonagall stood up, staring at the crowd. Delilah froze. She had thought that McGonagall had already gone back to patrol. Obviously not.
"If we ever find out who did this, they will be in very big trouble," she promised before heading back out to patrol the maze.
Delilah anxiously waited for more sparks. But none came. Minutes passed, but still nothing happened.
Finally there was a bang, and there Harry was, with the Triwizard Cup. Cheers went up through the crowd, but... something wasn't right. Diggory was there too, yet... Harry was on top of him, clutching to him like a lifeline. Then, there was a scream, and Mr. Diggory pushed his way past her, trying to get through the crowd.
Delilah stared and followed him through the crowd. She almost got there when Moody pulled Harry away. That was odd. She saw Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore!" she hollered, quickly walking up to him. "Where is Harry going?"
Dumbledore turned and actually noticed her. That was a first. His eyes widened and he turned to look at Moody, who was helping Harry out.
Dumbledore raced after them with McGonagall and Snape at his heels, but why? It was just Moody, even if he was a bit eccentric. Delilah just wanted to know where Harry was so she could visit.
A while later, the crowd's shock of Cedric's death wore off a bit and they quieted, talking in hushed whispers. Hermione walked up to Delilah.
"The Weasleys and I are heading up to the Hospital Wing to see Harry, do you want to join us?"
Delilah glanced at Draco before nodding.
"Yeah, give me a sec."
Hermione nodded and walked away.
"I'll see you in the Common Room," Delilah promised Draco, giving him a quick kiss before hurrying after Hermione.
Delilah followed Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and Ron to the Hospital Wing. The moment they got there, they all rushed and mobbed Madam Pomfrey, who apparently had already come back from the third task. Delilah, on the other hand, sat on a stool near the entrance. She turned a bit and noticed Mood lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room, his wooden leg and magical eye lying on the bedside table.
Delilah turned back to the door and anxiously waited, tapping her leg as she stared at the doors..
Minutes passed. Nothing.
Half an hour, and the door still refused to open.
More and more time ticked away, but the stupid door wouldn't open.
Then it opened, and Dumbledore, Harry, and a black dog, Sirius, entered the room.
Everyone(Mrs. Weasley) immediately started to rush over to them. Delilah hung back, not wanting to overwhelm him.
"Harry! Oh Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, letting out a kind of muffled scream.
Dumbledore moved between them.
"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry had 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, 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, looking very pale. She rounded on Ron, Bill, Hermione, and even glanced at Delilah as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"
"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, "may I ask what —"
"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while," said Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry — I will wait while you get into bed.
"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry. I would like you to remain her tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He left.
"Is he okay?" Harry asked, staring at Moody.
"He'll be fine," said Madam Pomfrey, handing Harry some pajamas and pulling screens around him.
As soon as he was done, Delilah, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and the black dog came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of him. Ron and Hermione cautiously stared at Harry, as if they were scared of him, which was ridiculous. He wouldn't, couldn't, have killed Cedric. Delilah stared at him, wondering and hoping he was ok, or at least that he would be.
"I'm all right," Harry told them. "Just tired."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes started to water as she smoothed Harry's bed covers.
Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.
"You'll need to drink all of this, Harry," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."
Harry immediately took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. His eyelids closed and his breath evened. He was asleep. What had happened in that maze?
A while later, everyone, except Harry, turned and stared at the door, where they could hear people shouting.
"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!"
Delilah thought she saw Harry twitch, but when she turned back, he was still.
"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"
"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs. Weasley whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"
"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 hospital doors burst open, and Bill pulled back the screens. Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
"He's not here," she angrily snapped. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"
But the door opened, 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!"
Delilah stared at McGonagall. She had never seen her lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury. What had happened?
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," explained Snape, 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!" Professor McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"
"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who also looked angrier than Delilah had ever seen him, not that she had really seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"
But McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.
"The moment that — that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and — and —"
Delilah felt the room's mood shift as McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. But Delilah didn't need her to. She knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "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," Dumbledoor 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 as though someone had just hit him in an eye with a blue hairbrush. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.
"You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "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. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Delilah was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, maybe he was the insane one. "You — you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who — back? Come now, come now... 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..."
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."
So that was what had happened, Harry had seen Voldemort return. No wonder he was shaken up. That alone would have been terrifying, but to also have him kill a friend....
Delilah glanced at Harry, who was now sitting up, staring at Fudge.
"I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight," Dumbledore added.
Fudge's strange smile lingered. He too glanced at Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are — er — prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
Delilah glared at Fudge. There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.
"Certainly, I believe Harry," said Dumbledore, his eyes blazing. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge still had that curious smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Harry before answering.
"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who... well..."
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry said quietly, making Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill jump. None of them had noticed that Harry was awake.
Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.
"And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place —"
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"
"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and he seemed to radiate an indefinable sense of power. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge had taken a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.
"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before...."
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouted. He tried to get out of bed again, but Mrs. Weasley and Delilah forced him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"
"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family — donations to excellent causes —"
"Macnair!" Harry continued.
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery — Nott — Crabbe — Goyle —"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! 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 snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
Delilah stared at Fudge. He was oblivious, even more so than Harry, and would let his perfect little bubble pop, even if the world outside was in ruins.
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —"
"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.
"The second step you must take — and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You — you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants — people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —"
"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad..."
And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. Bill, Ron, and Hermione were staring at Fudge. Delilah alone was glaring at him.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, 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 your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against 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."
It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice,
"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be..." Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.
"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances..."
He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's bed.
"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly... am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she 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," said Dumbledore. "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," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "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," said Bill. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime."
Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."
"Very — very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.
Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again. "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."
Delilah gave a small smile, this would be interesting.
The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man. Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.
"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.
"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"
Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.
"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."
Apparently Dumbledore was a fool, because that was asking for a miracle, and from the looks of utmost loathing on Sirius and Snape's faces he wouldn't get one. Dumbledore must have agreed because he lowered the bar.
"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "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 do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."
Very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill — Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.
"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "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 Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupins for a while; I will contact you there."
"But —" said Harry.
Delilah could tell that he wanted Sirius to stay, and she understood. He and Sirius were close. Sirius smiled.
"You'll see me very soon, Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... of course I do."
Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... if you are prepared..."
"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius. It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry — take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later." He left.
Delilah watched as Harry slumped against his pillows. Everyone that was left stared at him. No one spoke for a while.
"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while... think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice that hurt Delilah's heart. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."
Delilah stared at him as tears started to form in his eyes, and spoke for the first time since she had left the third task.
"Harry, that wasn't your fault."
Mrs. Weasley and Ron flinched, as if they had forgotten she was there.
"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry.
Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. Delilah looked away, turning to Hermione who was creeping towards the window. There was a loud slamming noise as she pressed her hand against the window, as if... catching a bug. She had caught Rita. Delilah smiled.
"Sorry," Hermione whispered.
"Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
Harry drank it in one gulp, and slumped against his pillows, asleep. Not long after, they were ushered out of the Hospital Wing.