I struggled to sit up. It felt like all of my energy had been left at the graveyard. There were too many people starting to close in. Maybe I should lie back down...
Then someone practically collided with me; their arms were thrown around me, and it felt like I was being squeezed to death.
"Ash! Thank the gods you're okay."
It was Luke. I pulled back from the hug, not wanting to let Harry out of my sight.
"What happened in there?" demanded a very freaked-out Sofia. "What's going on?"
"Is Cedric dead?" Brion asked suddenly, also looking very alarmed.
I deflected their questions and said, "I need to talk to Dumbledore. Where's —?"
"Harry! Harry!"
"Never mind," I muttered, as the old wizard turned Harry onto his back. Harry opened his eyes and let go of the cup, but he clutched Cedric to him even more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist.
"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."
"What's going on? What's happened?"
Cornelius Fudge appeared; his looked pale, appalled. "My God — Diggory! Dumbledore — he's dead!"
Luke was squeezing my hand. "Ash, what — what happened?"
"You-Know-Who — oh, forget it — Voldemort is back," I told him.
"Who's Voldemort?" Sofia asked.
"Evil Wizard Guy," Luke explained.
"Evil Wizard Guy?" Brion repeated
"He's like the wizard Hitler."
"That makes no sense!" Sofia exclaimed, exasperated. "Who is he, and what do you mean, he's back?"
"He's a bad guy who killed and tortured people who weren't wizards," Luke elaborated.
"He died when he tried to kill Harry," I added hastily. "But now he's back."
"How?"
"I don't have time to explain!"
"Gods, Ash," Brion said. "You should go talk to Dumbledore."
"You think?" Sofia muttered.
"That's what I've been saying!" I said.
"Harry, let go of him," I heard Fudge's voice say, and I looked over to see him trying to pry Harry from Cedric's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go.
Dumbledore leaned over Harry. "Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."
"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents..."
"Harry," I said, grabbing his other hand. "His parents are here, okay? He's in good hands."
"Okay..."
"That's right, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Just let go now... Aisling, if you would assist me in helping him up..."
I did, but Harry swayed. His leg was probably aching, despite my healing him. He seemed overwhelmed by the crowd, which jostled, fighting to get closer, talking so loudly — "What's
happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Diggory's dead!"
"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured — Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."
"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him —"
"No, I would prefer—"
"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running... he's coming over... Don't you think you should tell him — before he sees — ?"
"This is a disaster," I heard Sofia tell Brion helplessly.
"Harry, stay here —"
Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically... Moody appeared in the crowd; a flicker of fear rippled through me. This was Voldemort's inside man, I knew this for sure. Moody muttered something in Harry's ear and started leading him away.
"Wait..." I muttered. Should I follow them? I didn't want Harry going off on his own, not with Moody, not when Dumbledore had told him to stay.
"Ash," I heard Luke appear behind me. "Ash, are you okay?"
"He took Harry," I said.
"What?"
"He's a Death Eater, he took Harry!"
"Who?"
"Moody!" I exclaimed. "Where's Dumbledore when you need him?"
"Aisling," Dumbledore emerged from the crowd. "Where is Harry? I asked him to stay here."
"Moody took him!"
"Moody —"
"He's not really Moody, though, he's Crouch, he's a Death Eater, he put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire!"
Dumbledore's expression seemed to dissolve into one of cold rage that made me understand why people were scared of him. "Where did they go?"
"They went to the castle —"
"Lead the way, then — no, not you, Mr. Castellan. Stay here. Minerva — Severus — come with me —"
We raced up to the castle towards Moody's office; Snape said Moody probably would've gone to the Hospital Wing, but McGonagall countered that if he was really a Death Eater, he would take Harry somewhere they wouldn't be seen by someone who could intervene. Therefore Moody's office it was.
When we arrived, Dumbledore raised his wand and shouted "Stupefy!" There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart — Moody — no, Crouch — was thrown backward onto the office floor. Harry stared at the place where Moody had been.
Dumbledore stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody/Crouch's unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was visible, along with Dumbledore and McGonagall's, glaring into the room.
I went straight to Harry. "Are you okay? What did he do? When he took you..."
"I'm okay, Ash."
"Come along, Potter," McGonagall whispered, heading over. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along... hospital wing ..."
"No," said Dumbledore sharply.
"Dumbledore, he ought to — look at him — he's been through enough tonight —"
"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," said Dumbledore 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,"
"Moody," Harry said. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"
"Harry, this isn't Moody," I told him.
"Indeed," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew — and I followed."
Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."
If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. They were both probably used to it, I guess. Both turned at once and left the office.
Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement while I gasped.
I was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. I watched as Harry stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.
"You were right," He told me. "You were right about it all. That wasn't Moody."
It felt nice, being believed, but the good feelings were drowned out by the knowledge that it was too late to stop anything now. Cedric was dead, Voldemort was back, and we were all probably doomed.
Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.
"Stunned — controlled by the Imperius Curse — very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak — he's freezing. Madame Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."
Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.
"Polyjuice Potion, Harry," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair ..." Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk. "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done ... on the hour... every hour... We shall see."
Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Harry and I glanced at each other, then stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence... .
Then, before Harry's very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.
I saw a man lying before him, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair.
"Wait," I muttered. "This isn't — "
There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.
"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"
"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.
Crouch? Were they seeing a different person than I was?
Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.
"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest. "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"
"Son," I repeated. This was Barty Crouch, Jr. — Crouch's son.
"He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"
Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: Veritaserum, the truth potion. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were still glaring down upon them all. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Enervate."
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.
"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
The man's eyelids flickered.
"Yes," he muttered.
"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"
Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.
"My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."
Winky was shaking her head, trembling. "Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"
But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice. "The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.
"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."
The man's eyelids flickered.
"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master... of returning to his service."
"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.
"The Imperius Curse," Crouch said. "I was under my fathers control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior."
"Master Barty, Master Barty," sobbed Winky through her hands. "You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble..."
"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"
"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."
"Why is she coming to nose into my master's private business?" sobbed Winky. "Why isn't she leaving us be?"
"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.
"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end."
That explained Winky's behavior at the World Cup.
"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.
"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boys pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."
"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.
"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"
Crouch explained how he'd heard the Death Eaters storming the World Cup and terrorizing the Muggles and wanted to attack them for being disloyal to Voldemort. He also explained how he'd cast the Dark Mark.
"Ministry wizards arrived," He said. "They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.
"When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."
Winky let out a wail of despair.
"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then... and then..." Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me."
I suppressed a shudder.
"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant — perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."
The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.
"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.
"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" asked Dumbledore.
"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first —"
"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.
"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it. The only one who ever suspected me was the McKeon girl, but nobody believed her."
"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.
"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."
"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.
"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban."
So that was why the older Crouch was there. He was trying to stop his son.
"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."
"Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"
"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape, but McKeon was still suspicious. She and her muggleborn friend came to ask me about a reporter and she saw my name on the map where I was standing. I was fortunate that still no one believed her."
"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."
"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"
"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"
"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.
"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone ... I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."
There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight..."
"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."
The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.
I looked down at the floor. I'd really been right the whole time. If I'd just tried harder or gone to Dumbledore, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Cedric would still be alive. Voldemort wouldn't have been restored to his former glory.
Demigods were supposed to be heroes, but I was just a failure.