I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Luke staring down at me. He looked like he was about to say something extremely meaningful, but of course, being Luke, all he said was, "I'm going to go get some coffee for you. And maybe some pastries, too."
I actually appreciated this more than what I thought he might say, like Things will turn out fine or, even worse, You'll be okay.
We kept vigil over Harry. Luke, accompanied by two house-elves, had brought food and tea for everyone.
"I remembered," He said. "That the preferred drink in this country is tea, not coffee, but they tried their best." He gave the house-elves a thumbs-up "I'm sure it'll still be delicious, everything you guys make is delicious. Anyway, dig in, everyone. We're in for a nice, long night."
Mrs. Weasley fawned over how considerate he was while Luke smiled, looking a bit embarrassed. Sofia pointed out that Harry might be hungry when he woke up, so we set aside some food for Harry, too.
A few hours later, there were a lot of loud footsteps and voices shouting. We all stopped our whispered conversation and frowned over at the doors of the hospital wing, where the noise was coming from.
"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed softly.
"What are they shouting about?" Sofia asked. "Nothing else could have happened, right?"
"Dude, if something else happened, I'm going to explode," Brion muttered.
"Guys, shh," I hissed, glancing over at Harry, who stirred and opened his eyes. "Never mind, he's up."
"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. Fudge came striding up the ward. McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.
I felt Harry's hand slip out of mine and looked around in time to see him sitting up and reaching for his glasses. I handed them to him and gave him a small smile.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "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?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor 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!"
I'd never seen Professor McGonagall 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.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said 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!" 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 I had ever seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"
But Professor 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 —"
"No!" I exclaimed, shooting out of my chair. "It took his soul?"
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths'."
"But Minister, now he can't testify!" I said. "He can't appear in court and 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!"
"I frowned. "But —"
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those peoples 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 swung a heavy weight into his face. 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 Harry was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "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 ..."
"If you don't want the word of a 'lunatic,' " I said, making air quotes, "You can ask me and Harry. We were there. We saw him. When we touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, we were transported straight to Voldemort. We witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth.
"Aisling told me everything that happened tonight. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office," Dumbledore said. He glanced around at Harry and saw that he was awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."
Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at me, then Harry, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are — er — prepared to take the children's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
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 them," said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Aisling's account of what happened after Harry 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 strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at me and 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..." Fudge shot Harry another look.
I gaped. "Don't tell me —
"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry said quietly.
Our friends all jumped. None of them had realized 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?"
"Visions?" I corrected. "Yeah. Helpful visions about the future. I have them too."
"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power I'd felt after Dumbledore had Stunned Crouch. "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 half 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 I forced him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"
Snape made a sudden movement, but as I looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.
"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!"
"Why don't you go ask them where they were, then, Minister?" I demanded. "Put them under Veritaserum and ask them where they were! Or, Merlin, put one of us under Veritaserum! We'll tell you the truth! We saw Voldemort!"
"For heaven's sake, Dumbledore — the children were full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — their tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them —"
I whipped out my bow and held it in the air, shining a bright gold. Mrs. Weasley and Bill both made sounds of alarm, but I ignored it. "You're telling me you're willing to believe this — that the gods are real, that I'm one of their kids, but not that Voldemort came back?"
"The boy can talk to snakes! How can he be trustworthy —"
"Just because he can talk to snakes —"
"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!"
"You want evidence?" I demanded. "Here!"
I had no idea what I was doing. I was acting completely on impulse. I wanted him to see what I had seen. I grabbed his wrist and thought of Voldemort rising out of the cauldron. However, soon that changed into a vision of Voldemort standing before the "Magic is Might" statue at the Ministry of Magic. Fudge gasped and recoiled, yanking his arm out of my grip and backing away from me.
"What — what on earth —"
Confused at what I had just done, I returned to Harry's bedside while Dumbledore continued.
"Voldemort has returned," he said. "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 —"
I shook my head. Was that really all he cared about? Voldemort was back, and all he could think about was being Minister of Magic?
"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. Madame Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs.Weasley and I were standing over Harry. Bill, Ron, and Hermione were staring at Fudge.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, "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 Madame Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moodys 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 Madame Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left. Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madame 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."
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."
I thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
"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 Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."
"But —" said Harry.
"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."
"And you," he said, turning to me. "I'll see you soon, too. I want you to let me know when you come back from camp, alright? I'll come visit you."
"Okay," I agreed, hugging him tightly. "See you later, dad."
Sirius blinked in surprise, then grinned broadly before nodding to Dumbledore, and finally 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. "Mr. Castellan, will you, Miss Altamirano, and Mr. Woods go and inform Chiron about what has just happened in this room?"
"Yes, sir," Luke said.
"Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood must work together from now on. Demigods can no longer be a secret."
"We'll tell him, sir," Sofia promised, and the three of them left as well.
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."
Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. None of us spoke for a very long time.
"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. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's." He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.
"It wasn't your fault. Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry.
I looked down, feeling a lump in my throat. Like me, he thought Cedric's death was his fault.
Mrs. Weasley hugged him tightly. I stepped away to allow them this moment together. I looked over at the window instead.
There was a beetle sitting on the window sill. I frowned at it. Something about it was familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I started to turn away, thinking it was ridiculous to find something familiar about an insect. Then I realized what had seemed so familiar. There was a marking on its back, two red circles connected like a figure eight, almost exactly like the glasses of a certain reporter... I stepped toward it to get a closer look, and the beetle started trying to scuttle away. Not about to let it escape, I slammed my hand down over it, quickly cupping it in my hand.
I realized that I'd probably just been extremely loud and looked over at Harry and Mrs. Weasley, who had broken apart.
"Sorry," I whispered.
"Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
"Ash?" He asked.
"I'm staying, don't worry. Just... hang on..."
I walked over to Hermione and transferred the beetle to her hands. She looked down at the beetle, then back up at me in bewilderment.
"What...?"
"Rita Skeeter," I whispered so only she could hear. Her eyes widened in understanding, and her hold on the beetle became tighter.
"I think," I added in an even quieter voice. "Can you find out?"
"Yes."
I walked back over to Harry, sat down in a chair beside him, and took his hand.
"What did you do to Fudge?" Harry asked.
I frowned. "I... honestly don't know. I think I had a vision and projected it into his mind. I have no idea how — I didn't even know I could do that. But I'm going to hold off on figuring it out. Go to sleep, okay? I'll be right here."
Harry nodded tiredly and drank it in one gulp.
ANOTHER 12-page chapter? Wow
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